WITH  GUN 
ND  GUIDE 


fflOMAS  MARTINDALE 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


Copyright,   1907,  by  C.  H.  Graves 

CALLING  THE  MOOSE 


With 

Gun  and  Guide 


By 

THOMAS  (MARTINDALE 

Author  of  "  Sport  Indeed" 

With  illustrations  from  photographs 


PHILADELPHIA 
GEORGE  W.  JACOBS  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1910,  by 

GEORGE  W.  JACOBS  AND  COMPANY 

Published,   September,   1910 


All  rights  reserved 
Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


To  my  son 
THOMAS  C. 

who  as  a  child,  a  schoolboy ',  and  a 
man  has  lived  his  life  in  truth  and 
sincerity,  and  who  was  my  almost 
constant  companion  from  the  days 
when  he  was  a  "  wee  toddliri  bairn  " 
until  he  entered  upon  a  business  life, 
this  book  is  affectionately  dedicated 


SAC  \5I 


Preface 

FOTC  those  men  whose  days  are  spent  in  the  busy 
counting-house  or  store,  buying  or  selling  merchandise, 
poring  over  ledgers,  making  out  accounts,  with  their 
ears  dinned  with  the  click  of  cash  carriers,  the  rat-a-tat 
of  typewriters,  the  snapping  noise  of  adding  machines, 
the  buzzing  whir  of  electric  fans,  perhaps  now  giving 
ear  to  a  life  insurance  agent,  again  to  the  honeyed 
words  of  the  wily  promoter,  to  the  appeal  for  charity, 
to  the  man  wanting  an  ad  for  his  paper,  or  to  the  com- 
mittee begging  money  for  a  new  church,  while  from 
outside  of  the  business  abode  come  the  sounds  of  street 
cars  crashing  over  intersections,  the  soul-torturing 
noises  of  itinerant  street  musicians,  the  chug-chug-chug 
of  passing  automobiles,  the  shrieking  of  newsboys,  the 
shuffling  of  feet  on  the  pavement  as  the  surging  multi- 
tudes pass  and  repass — for  such  men  living  in  such  a 
babel  of  discordant  noises  this  book  is  written. 

In  it  the  author  attempts  so  to  picture  life  in  the 
woods,  in  the  marsh,  on  the  lake,  on  the  mountains, 
and  through  the  bogs  in  pursuit  of  game,  as  to  inspire 
his  readers  and  coax  them  to  leave  their  desks  and 
counters  for  a  while  and  live  an  active  life  in  the  open. 
In  doing  this  they  will  forget  their  thousand  and  one 


6  Preface 

irritations  and  perplexities.  The  excitement  of  hunt- 
ing will  banish  all  their  worries  and  fears ;  the  out- 
door exercise  will  cure  their  pains  and  ills ;  and  the 
peace  of  nature  will  make  their  discontent  give  place 
to  a  serenity  of  disposition  worth  a  hundred  times  the 
cost  of  the  outing,  for 

u  Hunting  is  the  noblest  exercise, 
Makes  men  laborious,  active,  wise, 
Brings  health  and  doth  the  spirits  delight, 
It  helps  the  hearing  and  the  sight ! 
It  teacheth  arts  that  never  slip 
The  memory,  good  horsemanship, 
Search,  sharpness,  courage  and  defeuse, 
And  chaseth  all  ill  habits  thence." 

— Jonson's  Masques. 


Contents 

PART  I 

IN  THE  WILDS  OF  NEW  BRUNSWICK  AND 
THE  MAINE  WOODS 

PACE 

I.     OFF  FOR  THE  WOODS    .         .         .  13 

II.     THE  STORY  OF  LOT'S  WIFE  18 

III.  A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY        ...  24 

IV.  TRACKS  OF  BIG  GAME           .         .  36 
V.     THE  LOST  LAKES           ....  41 

VI.     THE  OLD  SCOTCH  COLONEL  ...  47 

VII.     A  SOLITARY  DISCIPLE  OF  BACCHUS          .  53 

VIII.     A  FAMOUS  PERIBONCA  PORTAGE     .         .  59 

IX.     MISSING  A  BIG  MOOSE  AT  THIRTY  YARDS  67 

X.     THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  CROW          .         .  75 

XI.     ONCE  MORE  A  BAD  Miss  83 

XII.     OUR  RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  CAMP        .  93 

XIII.  FIERCE  AND  EXTENSIVE  FOREST  FIRES     .  105 

XIV.  A  NIGHT  IN  THE  OPEN          .         .         .115 
XV.     A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE          .         .         .124 

XVI.     LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP      .         .         .136 

XVII.     A  ROMANCE  OF  "  OUR  LAKE  "       .         .  148 

PART  II 

A  HUNTING  TRIP  IN  NORTHERN  BRITISH 
COLUMBIA 

XVIII.     OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS     ....  177 

XIX.     SPEARING  SALMON  IN  THE  NORTHWEST  .  200 

XX.     WATCHING  FOR  BRUIN           .         .         .  218 

7 


8  CONTENTS 

XXI.  THE  LONE  BULL  OF  SANDY  LAKE  . 

XXII.  THE  "  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA  " 

XXIII.  ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY   . 

XXIV.  How  THE  SALMON  is  VANISHING    . 
XXV.  BRITISH  COLUMBIA  BIRDS 

XXVI.     THE  MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA   . 
XXVII.     PERILS  AND  HARDSHIPS  THAT  MUST  BE 

ENDURED          . 
XXVIII.     AN    EXCITING  TRIP  THROUGH  A  NEW 

COUNTRY          

XXIX.     THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP 


PAOB 
229 
24I 
25I 
265 


286 
294 

310 
326 


Illustrations 

Calling  the  Moose       .  .        Frontispiece 

Bringing  in  a  Pair  of  Deer  .          .          .  Facing  page       20 

One  Way  of  Getting  Out  a  Moose     .  "         "          32 

Digging  His  Own  Grave    .  "                    5° 

The  Liberated  Moose           .  "         "         6* 
Leaving    the  River  End  of   Northeast 

Carry                             .  «                     7« 

Good-bye  to  Genial  Joe  Smith  "         "         86 

Arriving  at  "  Our  Lake  "    .  "                    96 

Distant  View  of  Camp  on  "  Our  Lake  "  "         "       no 

The  Martindale  Camp  in   Maine  "                   126 
Well  Stalked  at  Last  ....""       140 

Leaving  Our  Maine  Camp  for  Home  .  "       160 

A  Stage  Coach  on  the  Famous  Cariboo 

Road "        1 80 

Dr.  Hughes  on  the  Bear  River  Trail    .  "         "       194 

A  Pair  of  Doctors  Spearing  Salmon      .  "210 

Kibbie,    Al,   and     Mr.     Martindale   at 

Upper  Cabin  on  Bear  River  222 

Waiting  for  the  Wind  to  Go  Down     .  "         "       236 

Crossing    the    Portage    from    Spectacle 

Lake  to  Little  Lake     .                   .  "       254 

Two  Sockeyes  and  a  Big  Spring  Salmon  "         u       268 


10  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Grizzly  Bear    Killed    by    Dr.  Roe  on 

Spectacle  Lake    .         .         .         .         "         "       278 

Stretching  the  Skin  of  the  Black  Bear 

Killed  by  Dr.  Hughes  "         "       290 

Cooking   a    Meal    at    the  Edge  of  the 

Timber  Line       ....""       302 

Preparing  to  Cross  the  Trail  to  Barker- 

ville    .         .  .  "         "       314 

Swimming  and  Wading  Bear  River      .         "         "       328 


PART  I 

In  the  Wilds  of  New  Brunswick 
and  the  Maine  Woods 


CHAPTER  I 
OFF  FOR  THE  WOODS 

"  Are  not  these  woods  more  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court  ?  " 

— As  You  LIKE  IT. 

ENTEKI^TG  the  close  and  heated  train  in  Broad  Street 
Station  one  Friday  night  in  September,  bound  for  New 
Brunswick  via  Boston,  I  was  glad  to  fly  for  a  time 
from  the  dirt  and  dust  and  the  excruciating  noises  of 
our  much-abused  business  street.  j  The  relaying  of  the 
paving  blocks  was  being  carried  on  in  some  places  with 
the  clicking  of  hammers  and  the  pounding  of  rammers, 
while  in  other  spots  the  street  was  being  ruthlessly  torn 

up  for  the  th  time;  the  blind  mendicants,  with 

their  discordant  playing  of  the  cornet,  the  fife,  the 
flute,  the  accordion  and  the  barrel  organ,  were  moving 
at  a  snail-like  pace,  meandering  in  and  out  of  the 
crowded  throngs  and  adding  their  quota  of  noise  to 
the  other  nerve-destroying  conditions. 

When  the  train  pulled  out  the  sleeper  was  well  filled. 

Three  young  actresses  enlivened  the  spirits  of  the 
other  passengers,  for  they  were  comely  and  exuber- 
antly happy.  A  young  farmer  from  Woodstown,  IST.  J., 
was  journeying  all  the  way  to  Fort  Fairfield,  in  the  ex- 
treme northeast  corner  of  Maine,  in  search  of  potatoes. 


i4  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

He  had  already  purchased  over  two  trainloads,  but  was 
now  after  more. 

We  made  connection  at  Boston  with  the  Boston  and 
Maine  through-train  for  St.  Johns,  N.  B.,  the  cars  being 
well  filled  with  tourists,  business  men,  and  prospective 
hunters. 

The  day  was  very  hot  and  close,  the  thermometer  at 
one  time  registering  ninety  degrees  in  the  shade,  so 
coats  and  vests  were  dispensed  with,  and  to  while 
away  the  passing  minutes  on  the  all-day  ride  the  polit- 
ical situation  was  most  constantly  and  thoroughly  dis- 
cussed, and  the  quaint  observations  of  some  of  the 
citizens  of  the  great  state  of  Maine,  through  which  we 
were  passing,  were  decidedly  amusing  and  original, 
and,  as  showing  the  trend  of  popular  feeling,  were  in- 
teresting as  well. 

A  sharp-voiced,  sharp-chinned  and  sharp-tongued 
down  east  woman,  in  conversation  with  another  house- 
wife, gave  to  her  copious  extracts  from  her  ripe  expe- 
rience as  a  cook. 

Three  women  were  aboard  accompanied  by  their 
male  protectors,  and,  as  they  were  one  and  all  loaded 
down  with  rifles  and  fishing-tackle,  it  was  easy  to  see 
that  they  were  hurrying  to  get  into  the  woods  so  as  to 
be  there  in  time  for  the  open  season  on  deer,  which  is 
October  1st. 

In  spite  of  the  extreme  heat,  some  of  them  affected 
hunting  boots  and  woolen  stockings.  One  woman  had 


OFF  FOR  THE  WOODS  15 

her  sweater  resting  upon  her  shoulder  a  good  part 
of  the  journey,  while  her  husband  actually  wore  his 
sweater.  How  they  must  have  suffered  you  can  well 
judge. 

We  found  the  streams  through  this  country  nearly 
dried  up,  the  lakes  looked  more  like  stagnant  ponds, 
the  fields  were  burnt  brown  by  the  sun  and  the  leaves 
of  the  trees  were  dull  and  lusterless  with  their  covering 
of  dust.  All  nature  was  crying  for  rain. 

The  quaint  old  city  of  Fredericton,  our  first  stop, 
is  garrisoned  by  a  force  of  Canadian  soldiers,  who 
replaced  the  imperial  troops  shortly  after  the  close  of 
the  Boer  war.  This  has  always  been  a  garrison  town 
from  the  earliest  times.  It  is  the  capital  of  the  prov- 
ince, and  therefore  the  seat  of  government.  There's  a 
cathedral  here  of  the  established  church  and  many 
other  churches. 

Upon  a  great  occasion  over  a  century  ago,  when  a 
distinguished  guest  was  to  honor  the  settlement  with 
his  presence  and  a  multitude  of  people  had  convened 
to  give  him  welcome,  and  the  St.  Johns  Kiver,  which 
flows  by  the  town,  was  alive  with  gaily  bedecked 
canoes  and  barges,  while  stately  "  four-masters,"  brigs 
and  barks  from  many  foreign  and  domestic  ports  helped 
with  their  festive  display  of  bunting  and  with  the 
thundering  of  small  cannon  to  make  the  day  and  the 
occasion  a  memorable  one  in  the  history  of  the  country, 
a  raft  was  seen  coming,  which  had  put  out  from  the 


i6  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

mouth  of  the  Tobique  River,  which  enters  the  St.  Johns 
over  one  hundred  miles  above.  This  raft  was  loaded 
with  a  cargo  of  one  hundred  and  forty-one  moose  that 
had  been  killed  on  the  upper  waters  of  this  renowned 
salmon  and  trout  stream.  And  this  lordly  freightage 
of  royal  venison  was  to  provide  meat  for  a  series  of  bar- 
bacues  with  which  to  satisfy  the  appetites  and  nourish 
the  bodies  of  the  host  of  visitors  to  this  the  capital  of 
the  province. 

The  first  hunting  accident  of  this  season  happened 
near  here  some  two  weeks  before  our  arrival.  A  couple 
of  brothers — young  men — started  in  a  wagon  for  a 
drive  of  twenty-five  miles,  where  they  were  told  they 
might  get  a  moose.  On  reaching  their  camping  spot 
they  mutually  agreed  that  one  of  them  should  keep 
near  enough  to  watch  a  famous  spring,  while  the  other 
was  to  watch  a  slough  where  many  moose  tracks  were 
seen.  The  one  who  was  to  watch  the  slough  changed 
his  mind  without  notifying  the  brother,  and  started  for 
the  spring.  When  he  came  near  the  spring  he  noticed 
some  branches  moving  low  down  and  saw  an  object 
through  the  leaves,  which  he  at  once  fired  at,  and  hit. 
It  was  his  brother,  who  had  been  kneeling  down. 

When  I  looked  out  of  my  bedroom  window  my  first 
morning  in  Fredericton,  the  light,  by  reason  of  the 
smoke  from  distant  forest  fires,  was  anything  but  good. 
A  tall  church  steeple,  crowning  a  comparatively  new 
church,  attracted  my  attention  because  of  some  indis- 


OFF  FOR  THE  WOODS  17 

tinct  object  at  the  top  of  the  spire.  In  the  hazy  at- 
mosphere I  imagined  it  any  one  of  many  improbable 
things ;  as  the  light  grew  stronger,  however,  I  made  it 
out  to  be  a  reproduction  of  the  human  hand,  neces- 
sarily constructed  upon  an  enlarged  scale,  with  the  fore- 
finger and  thumb  pointing  upward  in  the  direction  of 
where  heaven  is  popularly  supposed  to  be  located.  My 
curiosity  was  excited  to  know  how  and  why  this  object 
came  to  be  placed  away  up  there. 

After  thinking  it  over  I  decided  that  when  the 
church  was  built  the  trustees  concluded  to  have  "  some- 
thing different,"  and  picked  out  a  well-known  design 
in  advertising  that  appropriately  reminds  the  congre- 
gation that  "  there  is  hope." 

The  First  Methodist  Church  of  Fredericton  is  now 
popularly  known  as  the  "  thumb-up  church."  So  long 
live  tke  power  of  virile  and  intelligent  advertising  and 
the  First  Methodist  Church  of  Fredericton,  which  was 
bound  to  have  "something  different,"  for  verily  she 
has  gotten  it. 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  STORY  OF  LOT'S  WIFE 

"Let  the  sky  rain  potatoes;  let  it  thunder  to  the  tune  of  Green 
Sleeves."  —MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 

THEEE  lives  in  New  Brunswick,  Canada,  a  farmer, 
trapper,  guide,  naturalist  and  self-taught  botanist  whose 
name  is  Henry  Braithwaite,  and  whose  years  number 
sixty-seven.  Ten  years  ago  I  tried  to  obtain  his  serv- 
ices as  a  guide,  but  was  informed  by  his  spokesman, 
who  acted  for  him  in  his  absence,  that  he  was  engaged 
ahead  for  some  three  years.  He  is  almost  as  well 
known  among  the  sportsmen  of  Great  Britain  as  he  is 
among  those  of  the  United  States.  His  clients  from 
the  "  Tight  Little  Island  "  include  many  members  of 
the  British  nobility,  as  well  as  business  men,  bankers 
and  professional  men  of  that  sport-loving  people. 

Among  the  citizens  of  Fredericton  he  is  familiarly 
known  as  "Uncle  Henry,"  while  to  the  natives,  the 
guides  and  the  trappers  he  is  "  Harry  Birthrite." 

That  I  might  spend  a  short  hunting  season  with  him 
this  year  he  managed,  by  cutting  off  a  few  days  at  the 
end  of  one  engagement  and  a  few  days  at  the  begin- 
ning of  another,  to  give  me  thirteen  days  and  a  half 
during  the  latter  part  of  September  and  the  early  days 
of  October. 

We  left  Fredericton  at  6:30  P.  M.,  September  28th, 


THE  STORY  OF  LOPS  WIFE         19 

by  the  Intercolonial  Railway  of  Canada,  a  railroad 
operated  under  government  ownership,  the  only  one,  so 
far  as  I  know,  so  owned  and  operated  on  this  continent. 

Those  who  imagine  a  multitude  of  good  things  to 
come  from  such  ownership  in  the  United  States  should 
surely  take  a  trip  to  New  Brunswick  and  see  how  their 
pet  theory  works  out  in  practical  operation.  They  will 
quickly  be  disillusioned.  In  the  forty-seven  miles  over 
which  we  traveled,  the  road-bed  was  poorly  ballasted, 
the  rails  were  light  and  very  carelessly  laid.  The  cars 
were  dirty  and  dilapidated,  wash-bowls  broken,  toilet 
rooms  filthy,  windows  dirty  and  the  water  coolers  out 
of  commission.  The  stations  were  decrepit  in  appear- 
ance and  slovenly  kept,  everything  betokening  the  fact 
that  here  was  a  road  that  had  political  sponsors,  polit- 
ical favorites  as  operators  and,  perhaps,  more  or  less, 
political  graft  in  the  purchase  of  supplies  and  in  the 
appointment  of  the  men. 

Boisetown  was  the  end  of  our  railroad  journey,  and 
the  beginning  of  the  serious  and  rugged  part  of  the 
trip.  I  wish  that  a  faint  picture  could  be  given  of  the 
character  of  the  road  over  which  our  course  lay.  The 
first  day's  journey  was  a  gradual  and  lasting  climb  to 
a  higher  altitude,  although  we  seemed  to  go  up  and  up, 
only  to  come  down  again  to  the  same  level. 

On  some  steep  inclines  the  soil  had  washed  away 
from  the  surface  of  the  road,  leaving  a  pathway  of 
nothing  but  naked  boulders  of  all  sizes  and  shapes. 


20  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Over  these  the  careful  horses  wended  their  way  slowly 
and  very  cautiously.  In  many  places  springs  discharged 
their  waters  into  the  road,  thus  making  veritable  seas 
of  mud  when  helped,  as  in  our  case,  by  copious  rains. 

Our  outfit  consisted  of  two  horses  and  a  wagon,  to 
haul  the  supplies,  and  a  saddle  horse  for  my  conve- 
nience. Uncle  Henry  walked,  along  with  the  man  who 
was  to  act  as  cook,  and  a  boy  who  was  to  take  the 
saddle  horse  back  to  the  settlement.  We  were  hardly 
on  our  way  before  a  rain-storm  came  on,  at  first  gently, 
but  soon  it  became  violent,  being  accompanied  by  fierce 
gusts  of  wind.  Our  oilskin  clothes  were  but  little  pro- 
tection, as  the  swirling  drops  trickled  down  our  backs 
and  down  our  legs  over  the  boot  tops. 

We  cheerily  jogged  on,  despite  the  rain  and  the  con- 
sequent discomfort,  and  the  first  day's  trip  ended  at 
about  dark  at  "Brown  Camp."  Being  the  first  to 
arrive,  I  quickly  had  a  fire  burning  in  the  stove,  while 
"  Henry  "  set  about  getting  something  cooked. 

While  we  were  doing  this  a  middle-aged  Englishman 

entered  and  craved  shelter  for  his  wife,  Mrs.  B , 

who  had  ridden  all  day  astride,  and  was  drenched 
through  and  through.     He  said  that  his  "  cartmen  "- 
cook,  hostler  and  guides — were  on  the  way,  and  would 
arrive  about  an  hour  later. 

We,  of  course,  said  "  yes  "to  his  request  and  so  he 
brought  in  a  bonnie,  rosy-cheeked  little  Englishwoman, 
who  said  she  had  enjoyed  every  minute  of  the  trip. 


Copyright,  1905,  by  C.  H.  Graves 

BRINGING  IN  A  PAIR  OF  DEER 


THE  STORY  OF  LOTS  WIFE         21 

They  had  been  in  the  woods  for  nearly  thirty  days, 
and  were  now  on  their  way  out.  She  and  her  husband 
were  given  seats  by  the  stove,  and  their  steaming 
clothes  readily  attested  the  efficiency  of  our  fire. 

But  now  I  was  in  a  dilemma.  I  wanted  to  remove 
my  wet  clothes  and  get  on  dry  ones,  but  the  woman 
was  in  the  way.  There  was  a  bunk  in  the  camp  with 
one  upper  and  one  lower  berth,  each  large  enough  for 
four  men.  Putting  some  dry  clothes  on  the  top  berth 
I  climbed  up  to  it  and  thus  addressed  the  lady : 

"Mrs.  B ,  do  you  remember  what  happened  to 

Lot's  wife  ?  " 

"  Why,  no ;  I  don't  recollect  ever  having  heard  about 
her.  Who  was  she  ?  " 

"Well,  she  and  her  husband  were  ordered  by  the 
Lord  to  leave  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  because  both  of 
these  cities  were  very  wicked." 

"  Really,  now,  is  that  so  ?  "  said  Rosy  Cheeks. 

"  Yes,  surelyj  because  the  Bible  says  so." 

"  Did  they  leave  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  she  looked  back." 

Mrs.  B 's  woman's  curiosity  compelled  her  to  say : 

"  What  happened  to  her  then  ?  " 

"  She  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt." 

"  Really,  now,  is  that  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  I  replied,  "  and  I'm  going  to  change 
my  wet  clothes  up  here  for  dry  ones,  and  if  you  look 
back  you'll  be  turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt." 


22  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

"  Eeally  ?    Well,  I  won't  look  back." 

After  I  changed  the  clothes  we — Henry's  party — 
sat  down  to  supper,  and  the  "  cartmen  "  and  others  of 
the  Englishman's  outfit  having  arrived,  they  pitched 
a  couple  of  tents  and  started  their  fires.  Their  cook 
then  came  in  to  make  use  of  our  cooking  facilities  to 
prepare  their  supper. 

Having  been  in  the  saddle  all  day,  and  naturally 
feeling  very  stiff  and  sore,  I  thought  a  sitz  bath  in  hot 
water  would  be  just  the  thing  to  take  the  stiffness  out, 
provided  I  could  find  something  to  sit  down  in  that 
would  hold  water.  Outside  I  had  noticed  a  deep  ob- 
long pan,  which  was  used  for  feeding  the  horses.  It 
was  speedily  washed  out,  and  half  filled  with  hot  water 
of  the  right  temperature,  and  I  once  more  undressed 
and  entered  the  improvised  bathtub. 

I  asked  the  Englishman's  cook  if  Mrs.  B was 

likely  to  come  in  before  she  was  sent  for.  He  said 
"no,"  because  she  was  seated  before  a  good  fire  of  her 
own,  and  that  supper  wouldn't  be  ready  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  so  that  I  should  have  plenty  of  time  to  get 
the  bath.  Now  here  I  sat  perched  in  the  upper  berth 
as  upon  a  pedestal  and  as  naked  as  Adam  was  before  his 
momentous  fall  from  grace,  when  in  walked  Mrs.  B — — . 

"  Really,  now,  Mrs.  B ,"  I  said,  "  you  mustn't  look 

forward  this  time,  but  backward." 

So  right  about  face  was  the  word,  and  she  sat  down 
laughing  at  the  contretemps. 


THE  STORY  OF  LOT'S  WIFE         23 

Later  on  her  husband  complained  bitterly  about  the 
"  cartmen,"  who  had  allowed  all  of  his  dunnage  to  get 
wet,  saying : 

"  In  England,  you  know,  ' cartmen'  are  compelled 
to  carry  a  tarpaulin  and  to  use  it,  but  these  bloody 
'  cartmen '  only  put  a  thin  rubber  sheet  over  the  things, 
and  they  are  all  damnably  wet.  Don't  you  think  I 
could  recover  from  them  ?  " 

"Perhaps,"  I  replied,  "but  it  will  be  the  cheapest, 
the  quickest  and  the  best  way  to  grin  and  bear  it." 

In  the  morning,  the  husband  was  still  out  of  humor 
over  the  "bloody  cartmen,"  but  Eosy  Cheeks  was  as 
chipper  and  joyous  as  ever,  thanking  God  perhaps  in 
her  heart  for  the  sunshine,  which  had  now  come,  and 
for  her  ability  to  stand  the  cruel  hardships  of  the  jour- 
ney. They  mounted  their  horses  and  were  soon  lost 
to  sight,  but  they  are  a  lasting  lesson  that  there's 
always  a  bright  side  to  the  darkest  picture,  if  one  will 
but  look  for  it.  And  on  this  lovely  morning  even 
the  much-abused  "  cartmen  "  were  good  humored  and 
contented. 


CHAPTER  III 
A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY 

' '  Then  thieves  and  robbers  range  abroad  nnseen  in  murders  and  in 
outrage. ' '  — RICHARD  II. 

MANY  years  ago  I  had  a  rainy  day  experience  in  the 
woods  totally  different  from  the  above  recital.  The 
time  was  in  August  of  the  year  1871.  I  was  then  a 
resident  of  Oil  City,  Pa.,  and  a  month  or  so  before  that 
date  a  prominent  lawyer  of  that  town — whom  I  will  call 
Larkin,  although  in  reality  that's  not  his  name — filled 
my  ears  with  stories  of  woodcock  and  pheasant  shoot- 
ing, with  perhaps  a  chance  at  a  bear,  together  with 
splendid  trout  fishing,  and  all  to  be  found  on  the 
western  slope  of  the  Alleghanies.  The  station  was 
about  fourteen  miles  from  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tains. Larkin  said  we  should  find  the  best  shooting 
and  fishing  upon  a  small  run,  which  found  its  way  into 
the  Alleghany  River,  and  this  was  to  be  our  base  of 
operations. 

In  due  time  we  arrived  at  the  flag  station,  and  from 
there  we  lugged  in  our  supplies — tent,  rifle,  shotgun, 
ammunition,  etc.  We  soon  found  a  likely  spot  to  pitch 
our  tent  on  the  bank  of  a  swift-running  brook,  where 
we  were  close  to  some  fine  trout  pools,  and  also  to 


A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY  25 

some  marshy  ground  where  we  saw  many  borings 
made  by  the  noblest  game  bird  on  the  continent,  the 
woodcock. 

Our  first  day's  sport  resulted  in  the  catching  of  a 
fine  string  of  one  hundred  and  ten  speckled  trout  and 
a  brace  of  woodcock.  We  hung  the  trout  up  on  a 
leaning  tree,  but  during  the  night  an  otter  managed  to 
get  at  them  and  ate  the  bodies,  leaving  only  the  heads 
strung  on  the  cord  from  which  they  were  hanging. 

The  next  day  we  wandered  off  two  or  three  miles, 
Larkin  carrying  a  seven  barreled  revolving  rifle  made  on 
the  same  principle  as  an  ordinary  revolver,  while  I  had 
my  shotgun.  About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  a 
thunder-storm  came  on  accompanied  by  a  fierce  down- 
pour of  rain.  Almost  simultaneously  with  the  bursting 
of  the  shower,  some  lumbermen,  who  were  running  to 
their  camp,  hailed  us  and  invited  us  to  go  with  them 
so  as  to  get  under  shelter.  We  gladly  accepted  their 
invitation,  but  when  we  reached  the  camp,  we  were 
soaked  through  with  the  rain. 

The  men  made  us  welcome.  We  were  told  to  take 
off  our  wet  clothes  and  hang  them  up  before  the  fire  to 
dry,  and  they  gave  us  some  of  their  own  clothes  to  sit 
around  in  while  waiting  for  supper  to  be  served. 
There  were  thirty-four  men  in  the  crew,  including 
choppers,  teamsters,  cooks,  etc.  For  the  most  part, 
they  were  a  decent-looking  lot  of  men,  free  of  care  and 
apparently  contented  with  their  work.  The  exceptions 


26  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

were  five  or  six  furtive-looking  fellows  whose 
faces  betokened  possible  outlaws  and  outcasts  from 
society. 

Before  the  supper  was  announced,  two  more  sports- 
men entered  the  log  shanty  and  craved  shelter.  They 
had  with  them  nothing  but  their  fishing-rods,  creels, 
revolvers,  and  wallets.  The  men  were  made  welcome 
the  same  as  we  had  been.  They  doffed  their  wet 
garments  and  put  on  clothes  loaned  them  by  the 
lumbermen.  When  supper  was  ready,  places  were 
made  for  the  four  of  us,  and  we  all  enjoyed  the  baked 
beans,  boiled  cabbage,  tea  sweetened  with  molasses, 
and  johnny-cake  in  place  of  bread. 

After  supper  the  rain  continued  to  pour  as  hard  as 
ever,  and  Larkin  undertook  to  entertain  the  men  by 
narrating  stories.  He  was  a  very  eloquent  and  a  very 
well-read  man,  thoroughly  up  in  ancient  Greek  litera- 
ture, in  which  language  he  was  almost  as  much  at 
home  as  in  his  mother  tongue.  He  had  his  hobby  like 
the  most  of  us,  and  his  was  a  strong  belief  in  the 
superiority  of  nerve  force  over  physical  force.  In  our 
walks  he  would  start  upon  this,  his  favorite  theme,  and 
would  illustrate  it  in  some  such  manner  as  this :  "  Now 
you  see  I'm  six  feet  two  in  height  and  weigh  two 
hundred  and  ten  pounds.  I  take  a  great  deal  of  ex- 
ercise every  day  so  that  I  am  always  in  splendid 
physical  condition.  You  are  five  feet  eight  and  a  half 
and  weigh  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 


A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY  27 

You  get  little  or  no  physical  exercise,  and,  therefore, 
in  a  personal  contest,  I  ought  to  have  the  advantage 
over  you ;  but  if  your  nerve  force  dominated  mine,  you 
would  surely  conquer  in  the  end." 

This  night  he  entranced  his  listeners  with  stories 
sustaining  his  favorite  doctrine,  showing  that  most  of 
the  really  great  men  of  the  world  had  been  men  below 
the  medium  height  and  strength,  but  men  endowed 
with  great  nerve  force.  He  illustrated  this  doctrine 
by  citing  examples  from  life.  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  Grant,  Lord  Nelson,  Byron, 
Alexander  the  Great,  and  Sheridan,  were  small  men 
both  in  stature  and  weight,  yet  in  their  day  and  gen- 
eration these  men  helped  to  dominate  the  world. 

Two  of  the  ill-visaged  men  took  exception  to  Larkin's 
conclusions,  and  so  did  one  of  the  pair  of  hunters  who 
happened  to  be  a  big  strapping  fellow,  and  who  evi- 
dently couldn't  see  where  a  little  "  cuss  "  could  get  the 
better  of  him.  The  rain  kept  on,  and  we  all  finally 
turned  in  to  our  respective  bunks,  and  soon  were  lulled 
to  sleep  by  the  rain  pattering  on  the  roof. 

We  awoke  the  next  morning  to  find  that  each  one  of 
the  four  of  us  hunters  had  been  robbed.  Larkin  had 
his  wallet  taken  containing  thirty-four  dollars ;  the 
other  two  men  had  each  a  revolver  arid  these .  with 
their  pocketbooks,  which  contained  all  their  money, 
were  also  missing.  The  writer's  watch  was  purloined 
but  the  robbers  missed  the  money — thirty-one  dollars 


28  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

— which  had  been  stowed  away  in  a  fob  pocket.  We 
held  a  council  of  war  outside  of  the  log  shanty  while 
the  lumbermen  were  eating  their  breakfasts.  We  had 
informed  them  that  we  had  been  robbed,  but  they  one 
and  all  protested  their  innocence,  and  assured  us  of 
their  chagrin  that  such  a  thing  should  have  happened 
in  their  camp.  After  they  left  the  camp,  we  made 
a  thorough  search  of  the  premises,  but  could  find  none 
of  the  stolen  stuff. 

We  were  now  served  with  breakfast  by  the  cookee— 
the  cook's  assistant — a  lad  of  perhaps  eighteen  years  of 
age.  The  evening  when  we  arrived,  this  youngster 
had  been  quite  kind  and  courteous  to  me,  and  I  in  con- 
sequence gave  him  a  little  present  in  return  for  his 
kindness,  and  now  he  motioned  to  me  to  go  outside 
with  him.  There  he  informed  me  that  there  were  five 
"  Bushwhackers  "  in  the  crew  of  lumbermen  who  were 
out-and-out  bad  fellows,  who  would  rob  a  man  as 
quickly  as  any  professional  pickpocket,  and  that  they 
each  of  them  had  "  done  time  "  in  prison.  These  men 
lie  named,  and  gave  it  as  his  belief  that  they  were  the 
robbers.  His  description  of  the  men  satisfied  me  that 
they  were  the  same  men  whose  looks  had  made  such 
an  unpleasant  impression  upon  us. 

The  county  town  was  thirty  miles  away  from  where 
we  were  located,  and  but  one  passenger  train  each  way 
a  day  stopped  at  our  station — when  flagged, — but  there 
were  many  "  Empire  Line "  fast  freight  trains  which 


A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY  29 

stopped  a  little  way  below  our  station  for  the  engine  to 
take  on  water. 

When  my  conference  with  the  cookee  was  ended,  I 
called  out  ray  three  companions  in  distress,  told  them 
of  the  boy's  disclosures  and  asked  them  what  they 
were  going  to  do  about  the  robbery.  Larkin  led  off  by 
saying  that  nothing  could  be  done — that  no  constable 
could  be  found  in  the  county  town  to  serve  a  warrant, 
if  one  was  sworn  out,  and  that  if  one  was  found  brave 
enough  to  come  up  and  serve  it,  then  if  a  search  failed 
to  find  the  booty,  we  would  be  in  a  bad  strait,  and  he 
for  one  wouldn't  be  a  party  to  any  plan  to  arrest  the 
five  men  on  the  simple  say-so  of  a  youth  of  eighteen. 
The  other  two  men  concurred  in  Larkin's  decision. 

I  then  told  them  that  I  had  a  different  idea  and 
should  act  upon  it,  and  asked  their  aid  and  cooperation 
in  carrying  it  out.  The  plan  was  that  I  should  board 
an  Empire  Line  freight  at  the  water  tank,  explaining 
the  situation  to  the  train  crew  ;  go  down  to  the  county 
court  and  swear  out  a  warrant  for  four  of  the  men— 
the  youth  was  a  bit  doubtful  about  one  of  them  being 
implicated  in  the  robbery ;  get  a  constable  to  come 
with  me  to  serve  the  warrant ;  obtain  a  permit  to  ride 
on  an  Empire  Line  train  back  again,  and  if  necessary 
to  flag  one  of  the  same  line  on  the  down  trip  the  fol- 
lowing morning  if  we  succeeded  in  taking  the  four  men 
as  prisoners.  This  my  companions  agreed  to,  and  they 
also  promised  to  be  waiting  in  some  hidden  place  for  a 


30  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

signal  of  four  blasts  of  the  locomotive  whistle  which  I 
was  to  ask  the  engineer  to  blow  on  nearing  the  water 
tank  coming  back.  Then  they  were  to  show  them- 
selves and  we  were  to  agree  upon  plans  for  the  capture 
of  the  outlaws. 

In  carrying  out  this  plan  the  train  was  successfully 
boarded  ;  an  hour  and  a  half  afterward  I  landed  in  the 
town,  found  my  way  to  the  court-house  and  swore  out  a 
warrant.  There  were  three  constables  in  the  town; 
two  of  them  pleaded  other  important  business,  and  de- 
clined to  go  with  me.  The  third,  a  veteran  of  the 
Civil  War,  a  small  wiry  "  cuss,"  said  that  he  was  glad 
to  have  a  chance  to  arrest  that  bunch,  because  he  had 
a  record  of  them  which  showed  them  to  be  "  villains  of 
the  deepest  dye."  He  took  a  revolver,  a  large  sheath 
knife,  and  five  pairs  of  handcuffs  ("  an  extra  pair,  you 
see,  if  they  should  be  needed,"  he  said),  and  then  we 
went  to  the  superintendent  of  the  railroad  for  the 
needed  permits  to  flag  and  to  ride  on  the  trains.  These 
having  been  procured,  we  had  something  to  eat  and  then 
waited  around  the  depot  until  a  train  was  ready  to  start, 
for  this  town  was  a  division  point  on  the  railroad. 

We  rode  on  the  engine.  The  train  was  a  heavy  one 
and  the  grade  so  steep  that  it  was  necessary  to  have  a 
"  pusher "  engine  part  of  the  way.  In  due  time  the 
water-tank  was  reached,  the  four  blasts  from  the 
engine  brought  my  companions  to  our  side,  and  the 
final  plans  were  laid. 


A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY  31 

The  men  not  having  returned  from  their  work  yet, 
we  secreted  ourselves  until  they  arrived,  and  had 
washed  themselves  and  sat  down  to  supper  in  the 
dining  cabin,  for  it  must  be  remembered  that  there  was 
a  sleeping  cabin  as  well  as  one  where  the  meals  were 
served.  Then  I  went  into  the  shanty  where  we  had 
slept,  brought  my  shotgun  out,  putting  in  it  a  couple 
of  cartridges  loaded  with  No.  1  shot,  the  largest  I 
carried  with  me,  and  the  five  of  us  marched  into  the 
dining-room.  There  the  constable  read  his  warrant  to 
the  four  men  and  ordered  them  to  come  out  one  by 
one  and  be  handcuffed,  while  I  with  leveled  gun  gave 
them  just  one  minute  to  obey  the  command. 

The  first  man  called  upon  hesitated  and  refused  to 
rise ;  a  second  warning  had  to  be  given  to  him  before 
he  rose  from  his  seat,  walked  around  the  table,  and 
allowed  the  constable  to  put  the  handcuffs  on.  The 
rest  followed  suit  without  demur.  We  took  them  into 
the  sleeping  cabin  and  agreed  to  keep  watch  over  them 
during  the  night  by  turns ;  the  constable  and  the 
writer  to  watch  until  1  A.  M.  and  the  other  three  men 
to  watch  until  daylight. 

For  fear  of  an  attempted  rescue,  it  was  deemed 
wise  to  keep  the  men  in  the  dining-room  over  night, 
and  after  the  other  men  had  eaten  their  meal  and 
gone  to  their  bunks  to  lock  the  single  big  door  of  the 
room  so  that  none  of  the  others  could  enter  again. 
We  therefore  brought  in  all  of  our  belongings  from  the 


32  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

sleeping  cabin,  including  Larkin's  seven  barreled  rifle 
and  my  shotgun,  and  these  it  will  be  seen  played 
quite  a  part  in  the  now  swiftly  moving  drama.  The 
prisoners  were  morose,  and  had  little  or  nothing  to  say 
beyond  making  threats  as  to  what  would  happen  to  us 
when  they  received  their  liberty  ;  and  I — the  man  who 
had  sworn  out  the  warrant — would  meet  with  their  most 
summary  vengeance.  To  relieve  the  tension,  Larkin 
tried  his  hand  at  telling  stories  and  engrossed  their 
attention  and  ours  too  for  several  hours. 

At  about  ten  o'clock  one  of  the  men  said  that  his 
folks  lived  in  the  county  town  and  as  he  was  known 
there  to  everybody,  he  would  like  permission  to  change 
his  working  clothes  for  a  "  Sunday-go-to-meeting  suit." 
He  informed  us  that  one  of  the  men  knew  where  his 
clothing,  shirts,  collars,  etc.,  were  kept,  and  would  get 
them  and  bring  them  to  him  if  we  would  give  the  man 
permission  to  come  in.  We  thought  this  to  be  a 
reasonable  request.  The  man  was  sent  for,  and  he 
turned  out  to  be  the  fifth  man  whom  the  youth  had 
advised  us  to  arrest.  It  was,  of  course,  necessary  to 
take  off  the  prisoner's  handcuffs  to  enable  him  to 
undress  and  dress  again.  When  this  operation  was 
completed,  the  handcuffs  were  replaced.  He  then 
remembered  that  he  had  a  "  diamond  "  stud  which  he 
would  like  to  put  in  his  shirt  front.  This  made  an- 
other trip  for  his  confederate — for  so  he  turned  out  to 
be — to  the  other  cabin  for  the  "  diamond." 


t 


Copyright,    1899,  by  Keystone  View  Co. 

ONE  WAY  OF  GETTING  OUT  A  MOOSE 


A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY  33 

When  he  returned  with  the  stone,  I  happened  to 
notice  that  the  prisoner  was  directing  with  his  eyes  the 
other  man's  attention  to  the  corner  of  the  room  nearly 
back  of  him,  where  the  rifle  and  the  shotgun  were 
standing  against  the  log  wall.  The  confederate  turned 
round  a  little,  saw  the  firearms,  and  comprehended  at 
once  what  the  other  man  meant  by  his  silent  signals. 
So  he  at  once  made  a  dash  for  the  corner,  grabbing  the 
rifle  with  his  right  hand,  but  I  had  jumped  as  quickly 
as  he,  and  catching  the  shotgun  almost  simultaneously 
with  the  confederate's  grasp  of  the  rifle,  I  struck  that 
weapon  with  the  barrel  of  the  shotgun,  knocking  it 
upward,  and  then,  of  course,  I  had  him  covered  with 
the  gun.  He  was  speedily  disarmed,  and  in  spite  of 
his  struggles  the  extra  pair  of  handcuffs  were  snapped 
on  his  wrists. 

Now  we  had  five  men  to  watch.  We  brought  in 
some  quilts  and  some  straw,  and  made  places  for  them 
to  lie  on  the  floor  for  the  balance  of  the  night  while 
Larkin  and  the  other  two  men  lay  down  at  the  far  end 
of  the  cabin. 

At  one  end  of  the  dining-room  a  square  hole  was  cut 
in  the  logs  to  allow  ventilation,  and  also  to  permit  the 
garbage  to  be  thrown  out  into  a  barrel  which  stood  out- 
side in  front  of  this  opening.  At  about  twelve-thirty 
in  the  morning,  when  the  other  three  watchers  were 
sleeping  soundly,  and  we  who  were  on  duty  had  been 
dozing  for  a  few  minutes,  we  both  heard  a  slight 


34  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

noise,  and,  starting  up,  found  the  fifth  or  last  prisoner 
nearly  half-way  out  of  the  opening  at  the  back,  being 
helped  in  his  movements  by  sympathizers  outside,  who 
were  pulling  the  man  bodily  through  the  square  hole. 
We,  of  course,  stopped  this  attempted  escape,  awakened 
the  other  sentinels,  and  the  bunch  of  us  then  told 
stories  and  walked  around  the  cabin  to  keep  awake 
until  daylight  came. 

Upon  the  advice  of  Larkin  we  took  the  men  outside, 
one  by  one,  and  put  them  through  a  severe  course  of 
cross  questioning.  The  constable,  having  a  pretty  good 
record  of  some  of  their  past  misdemeanors,  finally  per- 
suaded one  of  them  to  confess  the  full  particulars  of 
the  robbery,  and  he  showed  us  where  the  stolen  plunder 
was  hidden,  in  a  pile  of  manure  back  of  the  stable 
where  the  oxen  were  housed — as  oxen  were  used  on 
this  lumber  operation  in  place  of  horses.  Everything 
was  found  just  as  it  had  been  hidden.  The  man,  in 
his  confession,  told  us  who  were  the  prime  movers 
in  the  robbery,  etc. 

Breakfast  was  served  to  the  men  without  removing 
the  handcuffs.  There  being  five  of  us,  each  fed  one  of 
the  prisoners,  and  then  we  ate.  Taking  with  us  the 
"cookee"  as  the  important  witness,  we  went  to  the 
water  tank  and  there  awaited  the  arrival  of  a  train.  We 
boarded  the  first  one  that  came  along  and  were  soon 
in  the  county  town.  There  the  prosecuting  attorney 
made  out  the  indictment  on  the  evidence  we  presented. 


A  WHOLESALE  ROBBERY  35 

When  the  case  came  up  for  trial,  it  developed  that 
three  of  the  prisoners  had  planned  to  wreck  the  pas- 
senger train  going  west  the  same  night  that  they 
robbed  us,  which  train  was  due  at  our  flag  station  a 
few  minutes  after  9  p.  M.  Their  plan  was  to  open  a 
switch  and  run  the  train  into  the  mill-dam.  They  then 
intended  to  rob  the  passengers  and  the  mail  and  ex- 
press cars.  When  this  evidence  came  out,  together 
with  their  record  for  other  crimes,  the  men  were  found 
guilty,  and  two  were  sentenced  to  ten  years  each  in 
the  penitentiary ;  one  to  five  years ;  one  to  three  years 
and  the  man  who  "  peached  "  got  off  with  a  year. 

When  it  was  all  over  I  said  to  Larkin,  "  Say,  old  boy, 
what  about  your  doctrine  of  nerve  force  versus  physical 
force  ?  " 

"Well,"  he  said,  "this  incident  has  proved  my 
doctrine  to  be  sound  and  right ;  I  had  the  physical 
force,  but  I  surely  lacked  the  nerve  force,  and  that's 
all  there  is  to  it." 


CHAPTER  IV 
TRACKS  OF  BIG  GAME 

"  But  soft !  Methinks  I  scent  the  morning  air  !  Brief  let  me  be." 

— HAMLET. 

THE  clouds  having  cleared  away,  and  the  horses  hav- 
ing been  well  fed  and  rested,  we  started  bright  and  early 
on  our  second  day's  journey,  and  once  more  the  weary 
plodding,  climbing,  jumping  and  sliding  began. 
"  Uncle  Henry  "  was  feeling  quite  badly  on  account  of 
our  visitors  of  the  night  before,  and  particularly  because 
of  the  "  lady  in  the  case."  He  had  lain  down  in  his  wet 
clothes,  thinking  to  change  them  when  she  had  departed 
for  her  tent ;  but  she  tarried  too  long  for  his  tired  and 
weary  condition.  Exhausted  nature  demanded  sleep, 
and  so  before  she  left  he  was  in  a  profound  slumber. 

He  got  up  from  his  bunk  complaining  of  a  swollen 
and  very  sore  throat,  having  contracted  a  bad  cold, 
which  remained  with  him  during  the  whole  of  our  trip. 

Three  miles  before  our  camping  place  was  reached 
we  passed  close  to  Salmon  Brook  Lake,  where  a 
large  moose  had  been  dodging  bullets  from  many 
rifles  ever  since  the  season  opened,  on  September 
15th.  Henry  led  me  in  to  view  it.  We  found 
an  abundance  of  fresh  tracks,  and  among  them  those 
of  the  "  big  fellow  "  himself. 


TRACKS  OF  BIG  GAME  37 

Something  which  looked  like  a  log  in  the  distance 
suddenly  showed  signs  of  life.  It  was  his  majesty 
feeding  on  the  succulent  grass  which  grows  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  lake,  and  of  which  the  moose  is  very  fond. 
He  raised  his  head  and  at  once  looked  around  in  our 
direction.  Though  he  was  much  over  a  half  mile  away, 
still,  as  the  wind  from  us  was  blowing  directly  upon 
him,  he  got  our  scent.  His  mane  went  up  and  he 
started  off,  heading  for  the  nearest  point  of  land  ;  he 
was  not  long  in  crashing  through  the  undergrowth  on 
the  bank  to  where  he  was  safe  from  inquisitive  hunters. 

The  first  incident  on  this  second  morning  of  our  trip 
was  the  inspection  of  a  dam  where,  in  the  early  part  of 
the  season,  one  of  Henry's  "  sports  "  had  lain  down  on 
the  slanting  abutment  of  the  breast  and  fallen  asleep. 
He  was  awakened  by  the  breaking  of  a  limb,  and  there, 
right  before  him,  was  his  quarry,  coming  head-on.  His 
rifle  did  its  work,  and  the  "  sport "  was  thus  spared  many 
a  weary  mile  of  tramping  because  his  game  obligingly 
came  to  him. 

Next  we  reached  Hurd  Lake,  along  whose  western 
shore  our  route  lay.  I,  being  in  the  advance,  spied  a  very 
large  cow  moose  feeding  in  the  water.  Dismounting  I 
waited  until  Henry  arrived.  He  made  a  couple  of  calls 
with  his  birch-bark  horn,  to  see  if  she  had  a  bull  with 
her,  saying  that  if  she  had,  he  would  certainly  make 
his  presence  known.  Hearing  no  reply  to  the  moose 
calls,  we  continued  the  journey. 


38  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Two  years  ago,  from  out  of  the  far  northwest,  a 
German  by  the  name  of  George  Newman  came  to  Henry 
to  hunt  for  moose.  He  walked  all  the  way,  and  suffered 
very  much  in  consequence,  as  he  was  of  portly  build ; 
besides  he  was  but  a  poor  walker. 

His  guide,  as  is  usual  with  all  guides,  pointed  out  to 
him  the  various  game  tracks  on  the  road. 

"  Here's  a  fresh  track  just  made  this  morning.  It's  a 
cow's.  Here  is  a  calf's  track.  So  it's  a  mother  and 
her  calf.  This  track  is  a  bull's,  but  it's  an  old  one. 
You  can  see  it  was  made  before  the  last  rain.  Do  you 
see  this  little  track  ?  It's  a  doe's  track." 

And  so  on  from  hour  to  hour  and  day  to  day.  As 
the  German's  sight  was  not  good  and  he  had  to  change 
his  glasses  every  time  he  examined  the  numerous 
tracks,  by  the  time  he  reached  Kurd  Lake  he  had  be- 
come tired  and  impatient  of  hearing  about  the  never- 
ending  tracks,  and  he  declared  himself  in  this  manner. 

"  See  here,  my  f  riendt,  I  do  not  want  to  see  dose  bulls' 
tracks,  dose  cows'  tracks  or  dose  calfs'  tracks.  I  do 
not  want  to  know  how  fresh  or  how  old  dey  are, 
whedder  dey  were  before  de  rain  or  after  de  rain.  I 
did  not  come  here  to  see  tracks.  I  come  to  see  live 
tings — not  tracks.  Now,  I  command  you,  show  me 
not  tracks  any  more,  but  de  animals  what  make  dose 
tracks.  Und  I  hereby  notify  you  dat  I  will  not  pay  for 
dem  tracks  hunting,  but  only  for  de  hunting  of  de 
animals  demselves." 


TRACKS  OF  BIG  GAME  39 

After  this  the  guide  was  silent  as  to  tracks. 

I  had  brought  a  new  .22  calibre  rifle  with  a  plentiful 
supply  of  Hoxsie  bullets.  This  Henry  carried,  and 
with  deadly  skill  in  its  use  he  abundantly  supplied  us 
with  all  the  partridges  that  we  could  eat.  We  had 
them  fried  or  stewed  or  roasted,  according  to  the 
exigencies  of  the  time  when  they  were  cooked. 

He  shot  in  all  thirty-two  of  these  fat  and  delicious 
birds.  In  the  bagging  of  this  number  he  missed  hitting 
only  two ;  three  got  away  wounded.  One  he  had  to 
use  three  bullets  on,  four  of  them  two  bullets,  and  the 
others  were  killed  with  a  single  bullet  each.  Remark- 
able shooting,  indeed,  for  a  man  of  his  years. 

There's  a  scarcity  of  bird  life  in  this  section  which  I 
cannot  account  for.  The  white-throated  sparrow,  with 
his  plaintive  and  inimitable  song,  I  frequently  heard, 
and  what  can  be  sweeter  than  his  peculiar  and  ever- 
pleasing  notes,  which  always  seem  to  come  from  places 
where  only  the  deepest  solitude  reigns.  But  of  other 
songsters  I  heard  not  one. 

The  woodpeckers,  in  scant  numbers,  it  is  true,  were 
there ;  the  giant  among  them,  the  "  cock  of  the  woods," 
was  often  seen.  A  few  sheldrake  ducks  and  three 
black  ducks  and  one  bald  pate  were  all  of  the  duck 
family  seen.  One  bunch  of  ring-necked  snipe  and  one 
grosbeak,  with  a  few  yellow-legged  snipe,  completed  the 
list. 

Not  a  fox  did  we  see  on  the  trip,  although  we  heard 


40  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

some  barking  at  night.  Nor  were  there  any  muskrats, 
beavers,  bears,  raccoons,  or  'possums  seen.  And  only 
one  deer  was  sighted,  a  fat  buck,  which  I  shot,  when 
coming  out  on  the  morning  of  the  second  day  of  the 
return  trip. 

The  second  night  we  made  camp  at  the  crossing  of  a 
brook,  Henry  and  I  being  under  a  tent,  while  the  other 
men  slept  on  the  ground.  With  the  end  of  the  second 
day's  trip  we  had  traveled  thirty-three  miles  from  the 
railroad  ;  and  we  were  all  ready  to  go  to  sleep,  which  we 
did  before  7 : 30,  as  the  following  day's  trip  was  to  be 
an  especially  hard  one. 

So,  with  a  big  fire  in  front  of  the  tent,  we  slept 
soundly  and  well  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  night  was 
cold  enough  to  make  ice  along  the  edges  of  the  brook. 


CHAPTER  Y 
THE  LOST  LAKES 

Fall  many  a  glorious  morning  have  I  seen 
Flatter  the  mountain  tops  with  sovereign  eye, 

Kissing  with  golden  face  the  meadows  green, 
Gilding  pale  streams  with  heavenly  alchemy. 

—SONNET  xxxin. 

THE  third  morning  was  indeed  a  glorious  one,  with 
ice  in  the  buckets  and  ice  along  the  margins  of  the 
streams.  The  sharp,  cold  tinge  in  the  air  gave  an 
added  spur  to  the  appetite.  Breakfast  being  over, 
Henry  started  with  me  to  visit  a  couple  of  small  lakes, 
the  farthest  of  which,  he  said,  was  two  miles  off.  Here 
in  olden  times  many  moose  had  their  feeding  grounds. 
The  team  was  to  leave  us  and  go  on  ahead,  while  the 
saddle  horse  was  to  be  left  securely  tethered  to  a  tree 
until  our  return. 

The  road  to  the  lakes,  which  will  hereafter  be  called 
the  "  Lost  Lakes,"  followed  a  rushing,  tumbling  stream 
for  a  mile  and  then  it  turned  abruptly  to  the  left,  and, 
as  Henry  said,  went  up  to  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
where  the  first  of  the  lakes  was  found,  the  other  one 
being  at  the  top  of  still  another  mountain.  Many  of 
the  lakes  in  this  Miramichi  country  have  this  peculiarity 
of  being  at  the  top  of  a  mountain  rather  than  at  its 
base,  as  I  have  very  good  reason  to  know. 


42  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Henry  trapped  on  these  lakes  as  far  back  as  thirty 
years  ago,  but  his  last  trip  was  over  fifteen  years  since. 
In  the  meantime  his  blazed  spots  on  the  trees  have  be- 
come indistinct,  and  the  lumberman  has  come  and  cut 
roads  first,  and  then  the  logs.  After  these  were  slid 
down  the  mountain's  side  into  the  brook,  he  left,  and 
did  not  take  his  newly-made  roads  with  their  blazed 
marks  with  him. 

So  Henry  and  I  trudged  up  one  side  of  a  mountain, 
he  looking  for  his  old  landmarks,  but  no  lake  was  to  be 
seen.  Then  we  circled  around  it,  crossing  bogs,  a 
beaver  meadow  and  several  windfalls.  At  last  when 
I  saw  Henry  make  a  spot  on  each  side  of  a  tree  I 
knew  that  he  was  bewildered,  and  the  locality  of  the 
lakes  would  have  to  be  taken  on  faith,  for  time  would 
not  permit  of  our  making  a  further  search.  Of  course, 
Henry  had  taken  the  marks  made  by  the  lumbermen 
for  his  own  earlier  ones,  and  so  had  become  bewildered. 

By  following  first  one  road  and  then  another,  all 
leading  to  water,  we  discovered  our  upward  tracks,  and 
swiftly  followed  them  back  to  where  we  had  spent  the 
night. 

Our  two  hours'  tramp  was  fruitful  of  but  one  thing, 
the  finding  of  a  name  for  two  heretofore  nameless  lakes 
—the  name  is  "  The  Lost  Lakes." 

We  now  climbed  and  crossed  a  hardwood  ridge 
called  Robinson's  ridge,  from  the  top  of  which  a  mag- 
nificent and  widely  extended  view  is  to  be  seen.  When 


THE  LOST  LAKES  43 

the  bottom  was  reached,  on  passing  a  small  piece  of 
thick  woods  near  a  large  expanse  of  dead-water  I 
heard  a  bull  moose  make  an  audible  grunt. 

We  almost  immediately  reached  "  Clear  Water 
Camp,"  where  the  horses  which  had  preceded  us  were 
feeding  and  where  dinner  was  awaiting  us.  The  cook 
said  that  he  had  been  "  blattin "  with  a  moose  horn 
and  a  young  spike-horn  bull  had  rushed  out  of  the 
woods  and  into  the  water.  It  was  the  same  fellow 
which  I  had  heard  as  we  passed  along  but  a  few 
minutes  before. 

We  had  dinner,  and  then  Henry,  the  cook  and  the 
writer  started  on  foot  through  a  five-mile  portage,  as 
they  called  it,  being  the  last  stage  of  the  land  part  of 
our  journey.  I  noticed  here  the  first  caribou  tracks  I 
had  seen  since  1898. 

I  mentioned  that  fact  to  Henry,  and  he  said  that  the 
previous  season  one  of  his  "  sports,"  walking  ahead  of 
three  others,  came  across  four  caribou  feeding.  He  ran 
back  within  hailing  distance  and  holding  up  his  hand 
and  counting  the  four  fingers,  he  shouted : 

"  I've  seen  four  big  animals,  but  they're  not  moose 
and  not  deer.  Shall  I  shoot  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  came  back  the  reply,  but  when  he  returned, 
of  course,  they  were  gone,  and  he  was  much  chopfallen 
that  they  had  not  waited  for  him  to  get  a  shot.  It  is 
said  that  no  animal  can  run  faster  than  the  caribou. 

Many  years  ago,  when  these  rather  queer  animals 


44  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

were  quite  plentiful  in  Maine,  once  during  the  winter, 
when  the  lakes  were  frozen  nearly  solid,  a  herd  of  cari- 
bou was  discovered  upon  a  lake,  and  a  man  who  had  a 
pair  of  imported  greyhounds  put  them  on  the  chase  of 
these  fleet-footed  members  of  the  reindeer  tribe.  The 
story  goes  that  the  caribou  paid  little  attention  to  the 
greyhounds  at  first,  but  when  they  let  themselves  out 
they  went  so  fast  that  the  hounds  seemed  to  be  only 
walking,  alongside  of  them  in  their  running.  And  the 
dogs  gave  up  very  soon,  looking  disheartened  and  much 
crestfallen. 

This  portage,  which  we  crossed,  is  perhaps  eighty 
feet  wide  and  is  grown  up  with  hackmatack  bushes, 
alders  and  wild  cranberry  vines.  It  must  have  been  a 
paradise  for  game  at  one  time,  although  now  there  are 
few  signs  of  any  sort  of  game  upon  it. 

A  monster  hawk  flew  ahead  of  us  nearly  all  the  way, 
alighting  occasionally  upon  a  high  tree  and  waiting 
until  we  were  nearly  up  to  it,  then  flying  ahead  again. 

It  was  undoubtedly  looking  for  something  for  dinner, 
perhaps  a  young  partridge  was  its  cherished  wish,  or  it 
might  have  been  a  half-grown  rabbit.  Either  of  them, 
no  doubt,  would  have  been  welcome. 

When  our  walk  was  finished  we  entered  a  canoe  on 
the  waters  of  the  Big  Southwest  Miramichi  Lake,  on 
the  other  side  of  which  was  Henry's  "  home  camp,"  the 
objective  point  of  our  trip  and  forty-five  miles  from 
the  railroad. 


THE  LOST  LAKES  45 

We  had  not  proceeded  far  when  a  canoe  approached, 
in  which  were  two  men  and  two  women.  One  of  the 
latter  hailed  us  and  asked  if  our  cook,  who  was  with  us 
in  the  canoe,  would  accept  service  of  subpoena  to  attend 
a  hearing  in  Fredericton  on  October  8th.  He  told  her 
he  would,  and  she  gave  him  the  legal  paper  and  nine 
dollars  for  his  mileage  charges,  and  without  further 
ado  she  went  on  her  way  in  the  canoe  to  serve  more 
men  with  similar  papers. 

This  is  a  queer  country  in  some  respects,  where  a 
woman,  and  she  the  wife  of  the  defendant,  is  permitted 
to  serve  legal  papers.  Neither  may  a  hunting  party 
start  out  from  or  arrive  at  a  settlement  in  which  there  is 
a  church  on  Sunday  without  danger  of  fine  or  imprison- 
ment. A  teamster  may  drive  to  his  own  home  in  the 
settlement,  but  he  must  leave  his  party  at  its  outer  edge. 

We  met  a  theatrical  troupe  en  route  for  a  small  town 
in  the  interior,  and  they  related  their  trials  in  getting 
out  of  a  town  in  which  they  had  been  playing.  It  took 
a  special  permit  from  the  chief  of  police  before  their  seven 
trunks  could  be  removed  from  their  hotel  upon  a  Sunday, 
in  time  to  catch  an  early  morning  train  on  a  Monday. 

We  now  paddled  to  a  dam  at  the  foot  of  the  lake, 
where  we  waited  the  arrival  of  the  horses,  as  we  were 
considerably  ahead  of  them. 

Here  I  was  introduced  to  a  retired  colonel  of  the 
British  army,  a  Scotchman,  of  whom  I  will  write  more 
particularly  later  on.  He  had  been  "  in  "  thirty-three 


46  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

days,  and  was  going  out  the  next  morning  without  a 
moose,  although  his  trip  all  the  way  from  Scotland 
had  been  expressly  for  the  purpose  of  getting  one. 
Our  team  and  saddle  horse  would  be  used  by  him  on 
their  return  trip. 

What  a  lure  the  pursuit  of  game  is  to  most  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  British  Isles.  Their  forebears  must 
have  lived  by  the  chase  solely,  to  have  implanted  in 
them  an  instinct  so  strong  as  to  make  men  of  great 
affairs,  noblemen,  business  men  and  others,  come  over 
3,000  miles,  and  then  subject  themselves  to  great  hard- 
ship and  exposure,  simply  to  satisfy  that  inbred  desire 
for  sport. 

In  Fredericton  I  met  an  Irish  peer  who  had  just 
come  "  out "  from  a  trip  up  the  Tobique  River  and 
down  the  Nipisquit,  and  his  sole  motive  was  to  fish  for 
trout.  He  was  to  go  "  in  "  again  the  next  day  after 
moose.  As  I  had  been  over  his  whole  route  of  the 
Tobique  and  part  of  his  Nipisquit  route,  we  had  a  very 
pleasant  and  interesting  talk  in  comparing  experiences. 
He  was  quite  democratic  in  his  manners,  putting  on  no 
airs  whatever. 

The  team  arrived  at  5  p.  M.  We  changed  our 
dunnage  from  the  wagon  to  the  canoe,  paid  off  the 
teamsters,  and,  after  a  canoe  trip  of  four  miles  across 
the  lake,  we  arrived  at  the  "  home  camp,"  tired,  but 
glad  that  we  were  home  at  last  and  were  soon  to  be  in 
sight  of  big  game. 


CHAPTEK  VI 
THE  OLD  SCOTCH  COLONEL 

"Am  starved  for  meat,  giddy  for  lack  of  sleep." 

— TAMING  OF  THE  SHREW. 

THE  old  Scotch  colonel  mentioned  in  the  preceding 
chapter  was  a  tall,  military-looking  man,  six  feet  two 
inches  in  height.  He  was  about  seventy  years  of  age 
and  had  reached  that  period  when  he  couldn't  remember 
names  very  well.  He  had  a  habit  of  repeating  his 
sentences  once  and  sometimes  twice.  During  his  serv- 
ice in  the  British  army  he  had  resided  in  India  for 
twenty  years.  The  following  monologue  is  reproduced 
as  nearly  as  I  can  remember  it. 

I  am  really  glad  to  meet  you,  indeed.  I  beg  your 
pardon.  What  is  your  name,  again?  I'm  quite  for- 
getful, as  to  names,  but  I  never  forget  a  face.  Mr. 
Martindale.  Yes,  Henry  Braithwaite  has  spoken  much 
about  you  to  me. 

And  so  you're  coming  after  moose  ?  Well,  I've  been 
here  thirty-three  days,  and  I  go  back  to  Scotland, 
whence  I  came  especially  to  hunt  moose — I  say  es- 
pecially to  hunt  moose — without  one.  But  instead  I 
carry  back  a  disordered  stomach. 

My  God  !     Mr. — I  beg  your  pardon  again-r-oh,  yes, 


48  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Martindale.  My  God  !  Mr.  Martindale,  I  carry  back 
a  disordered  stomach. 

You  see,  it  was  salted  ham,  fried  potatoes — fried  in 
grease,  sir,  fried  in  grease — with  a  stray  can  of  toma- 
toes— a  stray  can,  sir,  and  tinned  pork  and  beans. 
And  dirty,  slovenly  cooking — excuse  me,  but  I  must 
say  it.  Henry  is  all  right,  but  damn  that  cook. 

I  shot  three  partridges  and  they  helped  out  a  bit,  just 
a  bit,  sir ;  an'  if  it  hadn't  been  that  I  brought  my  own 
good  Scotch  oatmeal  with  me  from  Scotland — from 
Scotland,  sir — and  a  tin  of  roast  beef,  and  some  red 
pickled  cabbage — two  jars  of  it,  sir — and  some  Scotch 
oat  cakes,  sir,  I  certainly  would  have  starved.  Yes,  sir, 
I  would  have  starved. 

Did  you  ever  shoot  a  moose  ?  I'm  glad  to  hear  it, 
sir.  I  had  three  chances.  The  first  time  I  was  other- 
wise occupied,  sir,  and  I  didn't  fire  until  he  was  gone. 
The  second  time  he — the  moose — was  otherwise  oc- 
cupied, sir,  and  I  couldn't  take  advantage  of  him  at  a 
time  like  that.  So  I  waited  for  him,  and,  sir,  he  sud- 
denly left.  And  the  third  time  my  guide  said  the 
moose  was  two  hundred  and  fifty  yards  away,  and  I 
sighted  at  two  hundred  and  fifty,  but  the  bullet  fell  shy, 
and  the  moose  was  off.  But  I  got  three  partridges. 

Did  you  ever  shoot  a  tiger  ?  No  ?  I've  shot  twenty 
of  them,  and  out  in  the  open,  too.  And  leopards  over 
a  hundred.  And  an  elephant  and  a  hartbeest  and 
giraffes.  But  I  would  na  shoot  a  zebra. 


THE  OLD  SCOTCH  COLONEL    49 

And  in  all  my  shooting  I  was  never  charged,  sir,  but 
once,  and  that  was  by  a  male  ostrich,  sir.  Yes,  sir,  a 
male  ostrich.  They'll  always  charge  ye,  sir. 

Yes,  I  killed  a  hippo,  too,  and  came  near  getting  a 
shot  at  a  rhino. 

I  do  hope,  Mr. — I  beg  your  pardon  again — oh,  yes,  Mr. 
Martindale,  I  do  hope  your  president,  of  whom  I  think 
a  great  deal,  will  come  back  from  Africa  safe.  Did 
you  ever  meet  him  ?  You  did,  and  talked  with  him  ? 
On  hunting,  too  ?  Give  me  your  hand,  sir.  I  want  to 
shake  hands  with  any  man  who  knows  the  president 
personally. 

Do  you  think  he's  brave  enough  to  go  to  Africa? 
You  say  that  his  charge  at  the  head  of  the  Eough 
Riders  at  San  Juan  was  the  whole  thing  of  the  war. 
But,  man,  that  was  nothing.  One  British  regiment 
could  have  swept  the  whole  kit  of  them  Spaniards  off 
the  island.  We  did  not  do  that  with  the  Boers  ?  Yes, 
but  the  Boers  could  shoot  and  fight,  too — yes,  sir,  and 
fight,  too — but  them  Spaniards  they  were  away  from 
home,  sir,  and  they  had  no  very  good  treatment,  either, 
an'  perhaps,  sir,  they  were  homesick.  But  anyway, 
one  English  regiment  would  have  swept  them  into  the 
sea,  sir. 

There's  one  thing  I  do  not  like  the  president  for — if 
you'll  forgive  me  for  saying  it ;  he  has  too  many  pic- 
tures taken.  You  say  the  Emperor  William  has  fifty  to 
his  one  ?  But,  sir,  he's  a  fool — he's  a  fool,  sir — a 


50  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

bundle  of  eccentricities,  sir ;  he  is  that.  One  day  he 
paints  a  picture,  another  he  preaches  a  sermon,  another 
he  offers  up  a  public  prayer,  and  another  he  conducts  a 
regimental  band,  sir.  Yes,  sir,  he's  a  queer  fellow,  but 
ah,  man,  he's  a  grand  shot — he's  that  indeed,  man. 

But  now  as  to  your  president.  He  has  his  picture 
taken  jumping  a  six-barred  gate  and  riding  to  hounds 
and  riding  at  the  head  of  a  lot  of  men  on  a  mountain 
lion  trip  and  lots  of  other  outdoor  excursions.  But,  sir, 
he  and  our  king  are  the  two  great  men  of  the  age. 
Although  I  think  your  president  is  a  more  forceful 
man,  our  king,  now  that  he  has  come  to  his  own,  is  a 
wonderful  diplomatist.  He's  done  more  for  the  peace 
of  the  world  than  all  the  kings  and  queens  of  the  last 
fifty  years  have  done. 

But  perhaps  ye'll  see  the  president  before  he  goes  to 
Africa — before  he  goes  to  Africa — and  tell  him,  if  you 
do,  that  he  must  not  drink  the  water  at  all  in  Africa. 
It's  nothing  but  damned  mud,  sir ;  boiled  or  raw,  it's 
all  the  same.  Tell  him  to  take  bottled  water,  sir; 
bottled  water,  and  drink  nothing  else. 

I  had  the  black  fever,  sir,  and  the  sleeping  sickness, 
where  every  other  victim  dies, — every  other  victim  dies, 
sir,— but,  thank  God,  I  was  spared.  But  I've  never 
been  the  same  man  since,  sir,  and  I  wouldn't  have  any- 
thing to  happen  your  grand  president,  sir.  So  be  sure 
and  tell  him  not  to  touch  the  damned  water,  sir. 

What  rifle  do  you  shoot,  a  45-90  ?    What's  that  ? 


Copyright,   1905,  by  C.  H.  Graves 

DIGGING  His  OWN  GRAVE 


See  page  87 


THE  OLD  SCOTCH  COLONEL    51 

A  Hocksie  bullet.  How  do  you  spell  it  ?  H-o-x-s-i-te. 
What  does  it  mean?  Oh,  it's  the  man's  name — the 
maker's  name.  Do  you  think  I  ought  to  take  some 
home  to  Scotland?  You  do?  How  many  should  I 
take  ?  But,  man,  we've  got  nothing  to  shoot  at  with 
the  rifle.  Kabbits  and  hares  ?  Well,  yes ;  but  ye 
canna  shoot  them  with  the  rifle  runnin'. 

Will  you  not  take  a  drop  of  Scotch,  Mr. — Mr. — I 
beg  your  pardon  again.  Yes,  yes,  I  remember  it  now. 

What !  Ye  do  not  drink  ?  Ye'll  excuse  me,  my 
eyesight  is  not  verra  good,  but  I  thought  by  your  looks 
that  you  were  perhaps  a  bit  of  a  hard  drinker. 

Can  ye  tell  me  when  the  Mauretania  sails  ?  She  was 
held  up  two  days  by  a  fog  inside  of  Sandy  Hook? 
Well,  but  I  can  get  her  sister  ship,  can  I  not  ? 

I'm  glad  of  that.  Oh,  yes,  I'm  coining  back  again  to 
hunt  moose  next  fall,  but,  mind  you,  I'll  no  hae  that 
cook,  because  every  time  I  think  of  him  I  say  to  my- 
sel' :  "  Damn  that  cook  !  Damn  that  cook ! "  an'  I 
canna  help  it,  sir,  either. 

And  I'm  to  ride  your  horse  back,  sir,  on  the  three 
days'  journey  ?  My  God  !  man,  but  I'll  be  stiff  and 
sore  when  I'm  through  with  him.  And  it's  raining, 
too,  to  start  off  with.  Yes,  I  had  lots  of  riding  in 
India. 

You  may  say  I  was  twenty  years  in  the  saddle,  sir ; 
twenty  years  in  the  saddle.  But  then  my  digestion 
was  good — I  could  eat  anything  without  its  giving  me 


52  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

heartburn.  But,  damn  that  cook,  I'm  going  back  to 
Scotland  with  a  ruined  stomach,  a  ruined  stomach,  sir. 

Well,  good-bye,  good-bye ;  I'll  hope  to  see  you  here 
again  next  fall. 

Yes,  sir  ;  yes,  sir,  I'll  be  back  again,  sure.     Good-bye. 


CHAPTER  VII 
A  SOLITARY  DISCIPLE  OF  BACCHUS 

"That  quaffing aiid  drinking  will  undo  you." 

— TWELFTH  NIGHT. 

HENRY  BRAITHWAITE'S  home  camp  is  situated  on 
the  shore  of  the  Big  Southwest  Miramichi  Lake.  It  is 
fifty-three  miles  from  the  railroad  and  forty-five  miles 
from  a  settlement.  This  camp  is  used  largely  as  a  dis- 
tributing camp.  Here  are  stored  provisions  for  camps 
that  are  scattered  far  and  near  on  many  lakes  and 
"  dead-waters." 

Hanging  from  its  walls  are  all  manner  of  traps,  for 
"  Uncle  Henry "  is  a  trapper  as  well  as  a  guide  and 
owner  of  camps.  There  are  three  rooms  or  buildings 
— one  used  as  a  kitchen,  dining-room  and  sleeping-room 
for  the  guides,  one  as  a  storage-room,  where  three  bear- 
skins were  hanging,  and  the  third  as  a  reading-  writing- 
and  sleeping-room  for  the  "  sports."  Two  beds,  each 
capable  of  "  sleeping "  three  men,  a  big  stove,  a  big 
bench  or  table,  a  wash-trough  and  another  table  com- 
pleted the  furnishing  of  the  room. 

Here  the  only  occupant  when  I  arrived  was  a  big, 
morose  and  taciturn  man,  who  kept  upon  the  table  an 
open  bottle  of  whiskey,  of  which  he  drank  as  often 
as  four  times  an  hour.  This  man,  whom  I'll 


54  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

call  Glade,  just  because  that  is  not  his  name,  had 
been  "  in  "  some  thirty  days.  He  had  got  his  moose, 
and  was  now  waiting  for  a  friend  of  his  to  come  back 
from  another  camp,  where  he  had  also  been  for  thirty 
days,  but  without  getting  a  moose.  Glade  was,  there- 
fore, "  killing  time,"  truly  a  noble  employment  for  a 
man  weighing  some  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  and 
possessed  of  much  of  this  world's  wealth. 

I  naturally  supposed  that  he  would  want  the  news  of 
the  outside  world,  and  so  I  told  him  of  lively  events 
in  the  presidential  campaign  then  going  on,  but  he 
made  no  passing  comment.  Even  the  exciting  struggle 
for  leadership  in  the  two  great  baseball  leagues  gave 
him  no  pleasure,  and  so  I  gave  up  trying  to  make  my- 
self agreeable  to  a  man  who  showed  by  the  number  of 
empty  whiskey  bottles  lying  around  that  his  present  in- 
terest in  life  was  merely  to  satisfy  his  appetite  for 
a  strong  stimulant. 

We  had  a  fine  supper,  cooked  and  served  by  John,  a 
bright-witted  chap,  who  was  dressed  in  white  cap, 
jacket  and  trousers.  We  had  cold  roast  moose  meat, 
with  onions,  baked  beans,  apple  sauce,  baked  potatoes 
and  flannel  cakes.  A  few  stories  were  told  by  the  men, 
and  then  I  turned  in  for  the  night  at  eight  o'clock,  glad 
that  the  rough  and  exciting  journey  of  forty-five  miles 
"  in  "  was  over. 

During  the  night  the  rain  once  more  deluged  the  yet 
thirsty  earth,  and  at  daylight  its  downcoming  was  un- 


A  SOLITARY  DISCIPLE  OF  BACCHUS    55 

diminished  in  volume  or  force.  Glade  said,  "  You'll 
surely  not  start  out  on  a  morning  like  this." 

"  But  I  surely  will,"  1  answered  him,  "  provided 
Henry  says  so." 

After  breakfast  a  guide  appeared,  who  was  to  carry 
in  a  pack  containing  blankets  and  some  supplies,  and 
Henry  and  the  guide  and  I  took  the  trail  for  Moccasin 
Lake,  four  miles  away. 

The  road  was  uniformly  upgrade.  Many  moose 
tracks  were  seen,  but  the  downpouring  rain  made  it 
impossible  to  tell  whether  they  were  "  fresh  "  or  not. 
However,  Henry  decided  to  rest  under  the  shelter  of  a 
big  rock,  and  make  one  or  two  moose  calls,  for  to  his 
keen  eye  the  signs  he  had  noted  warranted  a  trial  call 
at  any  rate.  Getting  no  response  to  the  moose  horn 
greetings,  the  journey  was  resumed  without  anything 
of  further  interest  excepting  that  Henry  shot  three 
partridges  on  the  way  with  the  .22  calibre  rifle.  When 
the  camp  was  reached  we  were  surprised  to  see  a  big 
fire  burning  in  the  stove,  and  two  men  in  front  of  the 
fire.  There  were  no  courteous  greetings  between  them 
and  my  party.  They  had  nothing  to  say,  and  after 
waiting  a  few  minutes  more  by  the  stove  they  went 
outside,  stopped  a  moment  at  the  door,  said,  "  Good- 
bye," and  both  of  them  departed  without  further  ado. 

They  were  guides  belonging  to  a  man  who  had  re- 
cently inaugurated  a  rival  business  to  Henry's — a  man 
whom  Henry  had  guided  in  former  years.  There  was 


56  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

much  ill-feeling  between  the  two  men  and  their  guides, 
with  charges  and  countercharges,  and  that  stage  had 
now  been  reached  where  subprenas  were  to  be  served 
upon  some  of  Henry's  guides.  Our  companions  con- 
jectured that  the  visit  of  these  two  men  was  to  find  a 
certain  guide  to  serve  such  a  legal  document  upon. 

Afterward,  in  the  afternoon,  we  came  across  their 
tracks  leading  from  another  camp  to  this  one.  This 
visit  of  theirs,  it  may  be  easily  inferred,  caused  much 
talk  and  comment. 

After  dinner  the  rain  subsided  somewhat  and  we 
went  down  to  the  lake  a  few  yards  from  the  cabin  and 
entered  a  rather  rudely  built  pirogue,  fashioned  out 
of  a  big  pine  log.  As  the  log  was  partly  rotten  at  one 
end,  it  had  been  neatly  mended  by  stretching  a  piece  of 
canvas  over  the  decayed  part,  to  prevent  the  water  from 
running  in. 

We  made  a  circuit  of  the  lake  and  in  one  corner 
Henry  heard  a  cow  moose  call.  We  landed  near  by 
and  made  a  careful  search  of  a  portion  of  the  woods, 
but  found  no  signs  of  the  cow,  or,  what  would  have 
been  more  to  our  fancy,  of  a  bull. 

We  did  see,  however,  the  skeleton  of  a  moose  lying 
along  the  roadside,  which  Henry  said  had  been  wan- 
tonly killed  in  the  previous  July  by  a  man  who  wanted 
to  test  a  new  rifle  and  to  whose  mind  there  was  noth- 
ing like  a  living  animal,  and  the  bigger  the  better  for 
this  purpose. 


A  SOLITARY  DISCIPLE  OF  BACCHUS    57 

Leaving  the  pirogue,  \ve  journeyed  up-hill  over  a  bad 
road  to  a  set  of  abandoned  lumber  camps,  in  one  of 
which  a  lot  of  supplies  was  stored.  This  camp  was 
chained  and  barred  with  many  protections  against  bur- 
glars, because,  before  the  place  had  been  thus  made  se- 
cure, four  barrels  of  flour,  a  chest  of  tea  and  a  barrel 
of  sugar  had  been  stolen  from  it.  The  flour  that 
remained,  together  with  sundry  barrels  of  pork,  beans 
and  molasses,  might  not  now  be  of  much  service  when 
used,  as  the  stuff  had  lain  there  over  two  years. 

Next  we  came  to  a  dam,  beyond  wrhich  was  a  fine 
stretch  of  dead-water.  Half  a  mile  above,  in  this  shel- 
tered water,  we  saw  a  moose  feeding.  Bringing  a 
pair  of  glasses  to  bear  upon  the  animal,  we  discovered 
that  it  was  a  bull,  feeding  upon  the  bottom  of  the 
stream.  He  would  thrust  his  head  down  under  the 
water  to  eat  of  the  grasses  or  lily  roots,  and  when  he 
raised  his  head  a  great  swish  of  water  would  be 
splashed  about  from  his  antlers. 

The  wind,  unfortunately,  was  blowing  from  us,  di- 
rectly toward  him.  Hastily  we  climbed  a  ridge  to  the 
left,  in  order  to  get  around  him,  but  the  air,  tainted 
with  the  scent  of  human  beings,  had  already  reached 
him.  We  saw  his  mane  go  up ;  saw  him  scramble  out 
of  the  water  to  the  bank,  and  away  he  went  without 
even  taking  time  to  shake  the  water  from  himself. 

He  could  not  have  seen  us  from  where  he  was,  but 
he  might,  in  addition  to  the  scent,  have  heard  a  branch 


58  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

break  and  the  senses  of  hearing  and  of  smell  wer& 
enough  to  steer  him  out  of  danger. 

A  visit  was  next  made  to  a  small  lake  on  the  other 
side  of  the  ridge.  No  signs  being  seen  of  moose,  either 
of  fresh  tracks  or  of  roily  water,  we  returned  to  the 
dam  and  made  a  trip  up  along  the  left  bank  of  the 
dead-water,  opposite  to  the  place  where  the  moose  went 
in,  but  saw  no  further  evidences  of  these  elusive 
animals. 

Returning  to  the  lumber  camp,  Henry  shot  two  more 
partridges,  and  we  trudged  back  to  camp,  arriving 
there  just  at  dark. 

Our  wet  clothes  were  now  hung  up  to  dry  on  a  lat- 
ticework above  a  big,  hot  camp  stove.  Dry  clothes 
were  put  on  and  a  supper  of  roast  partridge,  baked 
potatoes  and  stewed  prunes  was  eaten.  At  eight 
o'clock  we  turned  in  and  went  to  sleep  to  the  lullaby 
of  the  falling  rain  pattering  on  the  cedar  splint  roof 
and  to  the  occasional  hooting  of  an  owl  or  the  sharp 
barking  of  a  fox. 


CHAPTER  YIII 
A  FAMOUS  PERIBONCA  PORTAGE 

"I  mean,  the  fashion— yes,  the  faahion  is  the  fashion." 

— MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

GOBER  LAKE,  New  Brunswick,  is  called  after  a  mur- 
derer by  that  name,  but  the  explanation  is  made  that 
the  murder  was  not  committed  until  fifteen  years  after 
it  was  so  christened.  Then  the  aforesaid  Gober  shot  a 
man  and  killed  him,  for  which  crime  he  was  imprisoned 
for  one  month,  this  light  sentence  being  on  account  of 
some  extenuating  circumstances. 

Gober,  perhaps  thirty  years  ago,  came  into  the  wilds 
upon  hunting  bent,  and  under  the  guiding  hand  of 
Henry  Braithwaite,  he  finally  reached  the  lake  now 
named  after  him,  and,  casually  asking  Henry  how  far 
he  was  then  from  his  home  in  southern  New  Bruns- 
wick, he  was  so  startled  and  frightened  when  told  that 
he  was  over  one  hundred  miles  into  the  wilderness  that 
he  there  and  then  insisted  upon  turning  back  to  civili- 
zation, and  hunting  had  no  further  lure  for  him. 

We  left  Moccasin  Lake  very  early  in  the  morning, 
en  route  for  Gober  Lake.  The  road  led  over  a  good 
pathway  through  the  woods  to  Birch  Lake.  On  the 
way  fresh  tracks  of  two  men,  one  wearing  rubber  boots 
and  the  other  moccasins,  were  found  in  the  path  lead- 


60  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ing  toward  the  camp  which  we  had  just  left.  The 
guides  at  once  identified  the  tracks  as  having  been 
made  by  the  two  men  whom  we  found  in  that  camp 
upon  our  arrival  there. 

On  reaching  Birch  Lake,  two  freshly  cut  logs  were 
found  in  the  water,  tied  together  with  pieces  of  rope, 
on  which  rude  but  safe  raft  they  had  crossed  the  lake 
the  day  before.  For  our  crossing  we  had  a  pirogue  or 
dugout,  which  carried  the  three  of  us  and  our  outfit 
without  any  trouble.  There  was  quite  a  portage  over 
a  ridge,  in  crossing  which  Henry  shot  three  more  par- 
tridges. I  don't  know  how  it  came  about,  but  in  cross- 
ing this  steep  portage  I  could  not  but  think  of  a  famous 
portage — a  three  days'  journey  up  the  Peribonca  River, 
which  flows  into  Lake  St.  John,  Quebec,  from  the  north 
—which  I  crossed  in  1893. 

The  Peribonca  River  is  nearly  three-fourths  of  a 
mile  wide  at  its  mouth.  It  runs  through  a  strata  of 
Lauren tian  rock  and  is  bordered  on  both  sides — or  was 
then — by  a  dense  forest  of  spruce  and  white  birch 
trees.  ]STo  houses  grace  its  banks  and  no  roads  afford 
facilities  for  walking.  The  river  is  the  sole  avenue  of 
communication  between  the  lake  and  its  headwaters, 
nearly  five  hundred  miles  away.  The  river  narrows 
frequently  to  a  width  of  say  sixty  feet,  because  of  ob- 
structions from  projecting  ledges  of  rock  on  both  sides. 

At  this  particular  portage,  which  is  on  the  left-hand 
side  of  the  stream  going  up,  the  rock  rises  above  the 


A  FAMOUS  PERIBONCA  PORTAGE     61 

water  with  a  very  sharp  pitch  a  distance  of  perhaps 
forty  feet,  and  it  takes  careful  footing  to  reach  the 
summit  if  you  have  any  load  to  carry.  We  had  four 
Indian  guides,  only  one  of  whom  could  speak  any  Eng- 
lish. They  belonged  to  the  Montagnies  tribe.  They 
were  splendid  canoemen,  and  well-behaved  and  willing 
workers. 

When  this  portage  was  reached  I  noted  that  the 
Indians,  for  the  first  time  on  the  trip,  were  smiling  to 
each  other,  and  that  they  talked  a  little,  although  they 
were  usually  very  taciturn.  I  inquired  of  "Charley," 
the  spokesman  of  the  bunch,  what  they  were  smiling 
at,  and  obtained  from  him  the  story  of  the  following 
incident : 

At  the  very  headwaters  of  the  Peribonca  Eiver  lived 
a  trapper,  small  in  stature  himself,  but  with  a  big, 
buxom  wife.  It  was  his  custom  to  come  down  the 
river  in  the  balmy  month  of  June  accompanied  by  his 
stout  wife,  his  canoes  loaded  with  furs,  the  result  of 
the  previous  season's  catch. 

From  Lake  St.  John,  by  the  Saguenay  Kiver,  the 
journey  was  continued  to  Quebec.  Here  the  furs  were 
sold  and  supplies  purchased  for  the  coming  winter,  and 
after  a  fortnight  spent  in  the  quaint  old  city  the  return 
was  made.  So  it  happened  that  but  two  months  and  a 
half  before  our  trip  this  same  bunch  of  Indians  had 
convoyed  this  pair  to  their  home  in  the  far-off  north- 
land.  While  in  Quebec  the  good  dame  had  looked 


62  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

with  longing  eyes  upon  many  gorgeous  hats  and  had 
finally  purchased  two  of  the  very  latest  fashion  to  take 
with  her  to  her  distant  home,  where  they  were  the  only 
settlers  in  a  vast  region  on  the  border  of  the  Arctic  circle. 

As  each  of  the  hats  was  packed  in  a  separate  band- 
box, they  were  a  constant  source  of  care  and  worry  at 
every  portage. 

These  precious  examples  of  the  then  latest  fashions 
in  millinery  were  not  to  be  touched  by  any  one  but  the 
future  wearer.  She  alone  would  carry  them  around 
the  obstructions  and  across  the  portages.  When  this 
particular  slanting  rock  was  reached,  all  the  stores, 
tents,  bedding,  etc.,  in  the  canoes  were  landed  at  the 
base  of  the  rock,  while  the  Indians  carried  the  canoes 
on  their  backs  up  the  face  of  the  rock  and  then  around 
it,  placing  them  in  a  quiet  stretch  of  water  above. 
Then  the  freight  was  carried  over. 

Next  the  trapper  and  his  stout  wife  essayed  the 
rather  dangerous  climb.  The  woman  insisted  upon 
carrying  the  two  band  boxes  containing  the  hats  her- 
self, and,  with  one  in  each  hand,  she  very  carefully 
crawled  up  the  steep  ascent. 

There  was  quite  a  wind  blowing,  which  banged  the 
hat  boxes  around  in  a  rude  fashion,  but  all  went  well 
until  the  summit  was  nearly  reached,  and  there  the 
full  force  of  the  wind  struck  her  and  the  bulky  but 
light- weighted  freight  in  front  with  such  force  that  she 
reeled,  tottered,  and  then  fell. 


Copyright,  1905,  by  C.  H.  Graves 

THE  LIBERATED  MOOSE 


See  page  88 


A  FAMOUS  PERIBONCA  PORTAGE    63 

Backward  she  went,  turning  heels  over  head,  and 
making  several  complete  somersaults,  but  still  holding  on 
to  her  precious  burden  with  both  hands.  She  was  soon 
landed  in  the  cold  and  swift-running  waters  at  the 
base  of  the  cliff,  and  here  she  was  compelled  to  let  go 
of  the  hat  boxes,  which  floated  down-stream  as  if  in 
a  mill-race.  First  the  woman  was  fished  out  of  the 
water,  but  not  without  serious  trouble,  and  then  a 
canoe  was  paddled  down-stream  after  the  hats,  and 
they,  when  recovered  and  opened  to  the  buxom  dame's 
view,  were  found  uninjured.  Her  wet  and  bedraggled 
condition  was  at  once  forgotten  in  the  joy  of  this  happy 
deliverance,  and  tears  soon  gave  way  to  smiles.  Now 
she  was  quite  content  to  allow  the  head-gear  to  be 
"  toted  up  "  by  the  Indians. 

But  now  to  Gober  Lake.  After  crossing  the  ridge 
we  came  to  a  stretch  of  dead-water,  and,  entering  an- 
other pirogue,  we  came  to  a  series  of  small  falls,  which 
we  poled  up,  and  a  mile  further  on  Gober  Lake  Camp 
was  reached.  There  are  two  buildings:  one  for  the 
guides  to  sleep  in  and  also  to  be  used  as  a  kitchen  and 
dining-room,  and  the  other  for  the  "  sport's  "  sitting- 
room  and  bed-room. 

After  lunch  Henry  led  the  way  to  a  canoe-landing 
on  the  lake,  where  we  entered  a  birch-bark  canoe, 
rather  the  worse  for  wear,  and  in  face  of  a  strong  head 
wind  we  paddled  across  the  lake.  Leaving  the  canoe 
at  the  far  side,  we  leisurely  made  our  way  through 


64  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

some  boggy  ground,  along  the  banks  of  a  small  stream 
leading  toward  a  ridge  called  the  Caribou  Barren. 

On  the  far  side  of  the  stream  about  forty  yards  away 
a  large  cow  moose,  that  had  been  lying  down  among 
a  lot  of  tall  grass,  jumped  up  and,  with  mane  erect, 
started  for  the  woods  as  fast  as  she  could  travel.  She 
had  winded  us,  which  accounted  for  her  alarm.  Henry 
gave  a  low  call  on  his  moose  horn  to  see  if  she  was 
accompanied  by  a  bull,  but  as  none  appeared,  we  con- 
cluded that  the  cow  was  an  "  old  maid." 

We  climbed  the  sides  and  ascended  to  the  top  of  the 
Caribou  ridge.  Here  we  found  a  maze  of  caribou  run- 
ways, but  not  a  single  fresh  track.  The  bleached  skull 
of  a  cow,  with  two  little  antlers,  was  lying  on  the 
summit,  while  a  good-sized  skeleton  of  a  bull,  with 
good  antlers,  lay  whitening  in  the  sun  a  few  yards  off. 
We  tramped  the  barren  in  every  direction,  but  saw 
nothing  of  animal  life. 

Returning  to  the  canoe,  I  found  that  my  hunting- 
knife  had  been  lost  somewhere  on  the  barren.  We 
went  back  a  half  mile  or  so,  but  couldn't  find  it.  Two 
days  later  another  trip  was  made  to  the  barren,  and 
again  no  fresh  tracks  and  no  hunting-knife. 

On  the  trip  back  to  the  camp  we  explored  a  deep 
cove  with  a  lonely  piece  of  dead-water  leading  to  it. 
We  had  felt  confident  that  there  some  fresh  tracks 
would  be  discovered.  We  saw  plenty  of  old  ones,  but 
of  fresh  tracks,  not  one.  A  female  hooded  merganser 


A  FAMOUS  PERIBONCA  PORTAGE    65 

swam  about  in  the  cove  all  alone,  and  she  allowed  us 
to  come  within  a  few  yards  of  her  without  getting  at 
all  scared. 

From  all  that  we  could  see  there  must  have  been  a 
recent  migration  of  both  caribou  and  moose  from  this 
locality.  There  were  any  number  of  runways  down  to 
the  water,  but  no  fresh  signs  of  feeding  or  of  wading 
on  the  part  of  either  of  these  species.  Henry  was  at 
a  loss  to  account  for  this  absence  of  big  game  except 
by  attributing  it  to  the  doings  of  a  man,  who,  it  was 
said,  in  clear  defiance  of  the  game  laws,  had  been 
hunting  at  night  with  a  large  acetylene  lamp  fastened 
to  the  bow  of  his  canoe.  If  this  was  the  case,  the 
bright  glare  of  the  light,  together  with  its  smell,  would 
frighten  the  big  game  into  almost  a  frenzy  of  fear,  and 
it  doesn't  take  very  k)ng  for  them  to  quit  a  territory 
so  abused,  and  to  make  off  to  feeding  grounds  where 
they  Avill  be  left  undisturbed  in  the  strict  solitude 
which  they  so  dearly  love. 

While  we  were  at  this  camp  we  were  fortunate  in 
seeing  some  glorious  displays  of  the  northern  lights- 
aurora  borealis — which  lasted  for  nearly  an  hour  one 
night,  and  twenty-five  minutes  the  following  night. 
In  the  clear,  pure  air  the  display  was  so  beautiful  that 
we  watched  it  with  almost  breathless  attention  until  it 
disappeared  as  swiftly  as  it  had  come. 

In  early  November  Henry  expected  to  have,  as  oc- 
cupants of  this  camp  for  a  month's  hunting,  a  young 


66  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

man  and  his  wife  from  New  York,  who  had  been  hunt- 
ing with  him  the  previous  year.  The  husband  is  a 
newspaper  man  of  noted  ability  and  influence  in  the 
metropolis,  being  a  son  of  one  of  the  chief  newspaper 
publishers  in  that  big  city. 

Of  his  wife,  every  one  who  had  seen  her  had  the 
same  story  to  tell.  She  was  a  fine  woman,  courteous 
and  kind  to  all,  patient  and  uncomplaining  under  the 
most  trying  weather  conditions,  with  an  overflowing 
stock  of  enthusiasm,  and  possessed  of  an  athletic  figure 
that  the  goddess  Diana  herself  might  envy.  The  guides 
said  that  she  was  slightly  over  six  feet  tall  and  weighed 
one  hundred  and  seventy  pounds.  Upon  her  last  trip 
she  walked  all  the  way  out  to  the  settlement — forty- 
five  miles — and  arrived  there  in  good  condition. 

This  woman  is  of  gentle  birth,  is  highly  educated, 
and  cuts  quite  a  sweep  in  the  fashionable  world  when 
at  home.  So  no  wonder  that  with  all  her  varied  ac- 
complishments she  should  set  the  guides  and  "  sports  " 
who  have  met  her  here — where  nature  is  not  always 
kind,  but  often  very  rude  and  rough — as  if  with  one 
voice  to  sing  her  praises. 


CHAPTER  IX 
MISSING  A  BIG  MOOSE  AT  THIRTY  YARDS 

' '  But  look,  the  morn,  in  russet  mantle  clad, 
Walks  o'er  the  dew  of  yon  high  eastern  hill." 

—HAMLET. 

AT  first  break  of  day  we  were  up  and  doing  at  the 
Gober  Lake  Camp.  A  discussion  was  in  progress  be- 
tween Uncle  Henry  and  the  cook  when  I  joined  them 
as  to  how  far  it  was  to  Crichton  Lake.  This  is  a  body 
of  water  which  nestles  in  the  very  crest  of  a  high  moun- 
tain, the  base  of  which  rubbed  close  up  to  our  lodging. 
Both  agreed  as  to  the  distance,  if  the  mountain  were  to 
be  attacked  from  the  front,  but  Henry  wanted  to  take 
it  in  the  rear.  As  near  as  I  could  make  it  out  from  their 
talk,  the  journey  there  and  back  would  be  twelve  miles, 
but  it  might  be  stretched  out  to  sixteen  miles  by  some 
contemplated  diversions  from  the  roundabout  way  in 
order  to  visit  one  or  more  dead-waters. 

We  got  away  bright  and  early.  The  route  lay  along 
a  spotted  trail  for  three  miles  or  so  until  an  old  logging 
road  was  reached.  This  road  hadn't  been  used  for  ever 
so  many  years,  and,  of  course,  it  was  grown  up  with 
many  obstructions — deadfalls,  alders,  cedars  and  young 
firs.  The  road  was  cautiously  followed.  We  made  the 
least  possible  noise,  stopping  frequently  to  listen  and 
then  putting  our  feet  down  lightly,  being  careful  not  to 


68  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

break  any  twigs  or  branches.  We  would  tiptoe  along 
for  a  half  mile  or  more ;  then  sit  clown  and  listen  for 
several  minutes. 

We  saw  no  fresh  tracks  of  any  kind.  When  the  road 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  decline,  we  found  an  exten- 
sive "  dead-water." 

Now  the  day  had  become  really  hot,  and,  as  for  my- 
self, my  clothes  were  wringing  wet  with  perspiration, 
while  Uncle  Henry  was  mopping  his  face  at  times  quite 
vigorously. 

We  explored  the  dead-water  for  signs  on  both  sides, 
but  found  none.  Then  we  sat  down  and  rested  for  maybe 
half  an  hour,  during  which  time  Uncle  Henry  made  a 
few  "  calls  "  on  the  birch-bark  horn. 

Our  route  was  now  changed  to  one  at  right  angles  to 
the  road  we  had  been  following.  This  road  led  close 
along  the  brook  which  formed  the  dead-water ;  conse- 
quently it  was  wet  and  in  places  quite  muddy,  while  the 
everlasting  alders  could  not  well  grow  any  thicker  than 
they  grew  in  those  bottoms. 

An  hour's  walk  under  these  conditions  showed  us  no 
fresh  tracks,  until  we  arrived  at  a  spot  where  a  brook 
came  down  from  the  mountain,  which  we  were  to  climb 
from  the  rear,  and  entered  the  stream  that  we  had  been 
following. 

Here  we  saw  the  very  fresh  track  of  a  bull  moose, 
and  a  short  distance  further  on  we  noted  that  he  had 
been  polishing  his  antlers  upon  some  alders.  With  one 


MISSING  A  BIG  MOOSE  69 

of  these  bushes  a  blade  of  his  antlers  had,  in  some  way, 
gotten  tangled  up,  so  that  the  animal  had  pulled  it  up 
by  the  roots  and  carried  it  quite  a  distance  before  he 
could  get  rid  of  it. 

The  tracks  were  so  fresh  as  to  assure  us  that  the  noble 
game  had  passed  ahead  of  us  only  an  hour  or  so  before 
our  arrival. 

It  was  now  high  time  for  something  to  eat,  and  we 
sat  down  close  to  a  lively  spring,  ate  our  lunch  and 
washed  it  down  with  the  delicious  spring  water  that 
bubbled  up  close  by  our  seat. 

Now  came  the  climb,  the  real  work  of  the  day.  The 
incline  was  quite  gradual  at  first,  then  it  became  sharper, 
and  as  the  road  followed  the  brook,  which  was  gener- 
ally rushing  down  the  hill  at  a  good  pitch,  with  here  and 
there  a  little  stretch  of  quiet  water,  it  behooved  us  to 
advance  carefully,  looking  into  each  covert  before  we 
passed  it.  We  searched  the  ground  eagerly  for  the 
tracks,  which  had  now  disappeared  from  the  road.  Up 
and  up  we  climbed,  and  between  the  heat  and  the  exer- 
tion, and  the  high  altitude  which  we  were  attaining,  my 
tongue  was  hanging  out — a  signal  of  distress — at  every 
stop,  and  truly  I  had  "  bellows  to  mend." 

Uncle  Henry,  however,  showed  no  signs  of  trouble, 
but  jogged  along  quietly  and  steadily.  After  what 
seemed  to  me  a  never-ending  climb,  Henry  left  the 
brook,  and  made  a  sharp  turn  to  the  right,  telling  me 
that  he  was  aiming  to  make  a  short  cut  to  a  big  dead-wa- 


7o  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ter,  that  we  should  find  but  a  little  distance  below  the 
outlet  of  the  lake,  which  we  were  then  struggling  to 
reach. 

It  was  now  an  ascent  up  a  sharp  and  stiff  knob  of  the 
mountain,  and  following  a  spotted  trail,  which  led  right 
away  from  the  brook.  When  the  summit  of  this  eleva- 
tion was  attained  we  swung  to  the  left  a  little,  and  then 
the  path  led  down-hill  until  alders  again  were  seen, 
and  surely  we  were  now  about  to  reach  water  again,  be- 
cause one  does  not  find  alders  unless  he  is  near  to  water. 

Henry  went  ahead  and  stepped  very  gingerly,  parting 
the  alders  as  silently  as  possible,  so  that  we  could  wrig- 
gle through  without  either  breaking  them  or  allowing 
them  to  slap  back.  What  a  protecting  shield  this  ple- 
beian growth  of  alders  is  to  all  animals  of  the  deer 
tribe.  The  moose  always  seems  to  prefer  to  be  sur- 
rounded by  them  to  anything  else  in  the  wilderness. 

These  bushes  at  such  a  time  and  after  such  a  journey 
as  we  had  been  making  were  tantalizingly  difficult  to 
get  through  without  breaking  the  stillness  which  always 
pertains  to  the  sanctuary  of  the  moose.  However,  my 
labored  breathing  was  certainly  making  more  sound- 
waves than  our  feet.  When  Henry  gently  parted  the 
last  of  the  bushes  which  formed  the  fringe  screening 
the  water  from  our  view,  without  any  excitement  or 
emotion  whatever,  after  taking  a  glance  out  into  the 
open,  he  motioned  me  with  one  hand  to  come  up  to 
him,  while  he  held  the  bushes  back  with  the  other. 


MISSING  A  BIG  MOOSE  71 

Now,  I  must  say  that  at  this  point  I  was  about  "  all 
in  "  from  the  exertion  of  the  long-continued  climb,  as 
well  as  from  the  heat  and  the  high  altitude.  At  his 
signal  I  made  a  quick  step  forward,  and,  not  looking  at 
where  I  was  stepping,  my  foot  crushed  and  snapped  a 
small  twig.  Then  the  opening  was  reached,  the  curtain 
of  alders  was  raised,  and  Henry  simply  said :  "  There's 
your  moose ! " 

The  noise  of  the  breaking  twig  had  warned  him  that 
something  was  wrong,  and  he  had  just  commenced  to 
swing  around  when  I  first  saw  him.  He  was  standing 
among  some  high  grass  and  reeds,  broadside  on,  not 
farther  away  than  the  width  of  a  street.  His  head  was 
crowned  with  a  freak  set  of  antlers,  having  a  fairly  wide 
spread,  with  very  narrow  blades,  both  ends  of  the  ant- 
lers being  somewhat  like  a  man's  open  hands,  with  the 
fingers  of  the  hands  representing  the  points. 

He  appeared  to  be  a  sturdy  young  bull  in  good  con- 
dition, for  his  hide  was  sleek  and  glossy,  while  his  legs 
from  the  knee-joints  down  were  strikingly  white. 

All  of  this  was  noted  at  a  glance  and  before  even 
raising  the  rifle  to  shoot.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost, 
however.  I  aimed  as  well  as  my  breathing  apparatus 
would  permit  for  the  point  behind  his  left  shoulder, 
which  was  an  easy,  and  ought  to  have  been  a  fatal, 
shot,  as  he  swung  around. 

He  didn't  stop,  or  fall,  or  jump,  or  give  any  sign  that 
he  was  hit ;  so,  pumping  another  cartridge  into  the  bar- 


72  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

rel  before  he  had  completely  turned,  I  next  fired  what 
should  have  been  a  raking  shot,  striking  him  on  the  left 
hind  quarter.  But  alas !  It  didn't  strike,  and,  there- 
fore, didn't  "  rake."  Another  and  yet  another  bullet 
was  fired  after  he  got  going,  and  then  he  crashed 
through  the  alders,  and  disappeared,  as  if  by  magic. 

His  route  led  over  a  bit  of  hard,  firm  ground  as  soon 
as  the  alders  were  left. 

When  the  shooting  was  over  Uncle  Henry  asked, 
"Did  you  hit  him?" 

"  Why,  surely  I  must  have  hit  him.  How  could  I 
miss  ?  " 

"  Well,  your  first  bullet  cut  a  handful  of  hair  from  the 
back  of  his  neck,"  Henry  said. 

We  followed  his  tracks  far  enough  to  show  that  I  had 
made  a  complete  miss  with  each  of  the  four  shots.  I 
could  not  be  made  to  believe  this  at  first,  and  I  insisted 
upon  following  the  tracks  up  to  the  top  of  the  ridge, 
but  alas !  and  yet  alas  !  it  was  indeed  too  true. 

My  first  thoughts  were  not  for  myself  in  the  deep 
chagrin  which  I  felt  at  this  unlooked-for  and  ignomini- 
ous failure ;  but  they  were  of  Henry.  What  would  he 
think  after  all  his  care,  his  skill  and  his  planning  in  get- 
ting me  up  as  close  to  the  moose  as  any  man  could  wish 
for? 

"  Give  your  thoughts  no  tongue,  Uncle  Henry,"  I  said ; 
"  for  really  I  do  not  care  for  myself  in  this  matter,  but 
for  you." 


MISSING  A  BIG  MOOSE  73 

"  Oh,  don't  think  of  that,"  said  the  dear  old  fellow ; 
"  that  moose  alive  is  worth  $200  to  me,  for  some  other 
fellow  to  shoot  at.  And  don't  fret  yourself  ;  I've  had 
men  come  to  me  from  ten  times  the  distance  that  you 
have  come,  and  famous  shots  they  were,  too,  and  just 
such  a  thing  has  happened  to  them.  So  come  along 
to  the  lake  itself  and  let's  see  how  things  look  there." 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  moose  was  feeding 
in  the  dead-water  below  the  outlet  of  the  lake.  When 
the  shore  of  the  lake  was  found  we  looked  up  and  down 
its  length  and  breadth,  examined  the  soft  places  for 
tracks,  but  found  none,  and  then  we  circled  round  its 
upper  end. 

Here  we  saw  the  skeleton  of  a  bull  moose  lying  in  the 
water,  which  had  been  killed  a  couple  of  weeks  before 
by  one  of  Henry's  "  sports."  The  head,  of  course,  had 
been  taken  away,  while  the  hide  was  left  stretched  out 
upon  a  frame  made  of  poles.  There  being  no  canoe  on 
the  lake,  it  had  been  necessary  for  the  men  to  build  a 
catamaran  with  which  to  get  to  where  he  fell  in  the 
water. 

There  was  a  smaller  lake  about  a  mile  away  from 
Crichton  Lake,  and  at  a  lower  elevation,  for,  as  has  been 
said  before,  Crichton  Lake  is  at  the  very  apex  of  the 
mountain.  For  this  small  lake  we  wended  our  way. 
Arriving  there,  we  found  no  signs  of  moose,  fresh  or 
old,  and,  therefore,  without  loss  of  time  we  turned  our 
steps  toward  the  camp. 


74  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Now,  the  path  was  down  and  down,  and  seemingly 
ever  down.  We  hurried  as  much  as  was  consistent  with 
safety,  for  the  chill  of  a  cold,  clear  night  had  settled  upon 
us.  It  was  dark  when  the  friendly  light  of  Gober  Lake 
Camp  was  seen. 

It  may  easily  be  imagined  that  I  was  not  by  any 
means  cheerful  as  I  sat  down  to  the  evening  meal. 
Tired — very  tired — in  truth  I  was,  yet  I've  been  as 
Aveary  before,  and  still  have  been  "  cheery,  blithe  and 
bonnie." 

Hamlet's  sage  statement,  "  There's  a  special  Provi- 
dence in  the  fall  of  a  sparrow.  If  it  be  now,  'tis  not  to 
come ;  if  it  be  not  to  come,  it  will  be  now ;  if  it  be  not 
now,  yet  it  will  come,"  came  to  mind  as  illustrating  the 
glorious  uncertainty  of  hunting,  when  the  unexpected 
always  happens. 

I  was  so  sure  when  the  trigger  of  the  45-90  rifle  was 
first  pulled  that  the  big  quarry  would  fall  that  I  should 
have  wagered  the  whole  cost  of  the  trip  upon  it,  and  yet, 
with  four  times  one  shot,  that  he  still  went  off  unscathed 
was  so  totally  unexpected  that  it  was  really  hard  to 
realize. 

But  "  Truth  is  mighty  and  must  prevail,"  and  noth- 
ing need  be  said  more  than  that. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  CROW 

"For  raging  wind  blows  up  incessant  showers, 
And  when  the  rage  allays,  the  rain  begins." 

— HENRY  VI. 

THE  day  following  the  Crichton  Lake  fiasco  Henry 
decided  that  we  should  explore  a  long  and  famous  dead- 
water  of  the  southwest  branch  of  the  Miramichi  River, 
a  dead-water  with  many  turnings,  many  rocky  rifts  and 
many  wide,  smooth  expanses. 

We  had  not  gone  more  than  a  couple  of  miles  down 
the  stream  before  a  wind  sprang  up,  blowing  directly 
from  us.  This,  of  course,  would  be  fatal  to  our  chances 
for  game,  and,  therefore,  a  halt  was  made  in  a  sheltered 
cove.  There  I  had  a  good  rest  of  an  hour  from  the 
fierce  exertions  of  the  previous  day. 

The  wind  did  not  subside,  as  we  had  expected,  and 
we  turned  back.  In  places  where  our  canoe  had  shot 
like  a  duck  through  bits  of  quick  water  on  the  down 
trip,  it  was  now  necessary  to  get  out  and  lead  the  canoe 
through. 

On  reaching  one  of  the  wide  stretches  of  water 
Henry  stopped  and  asked  me  if  I  believed  in  animal 
intelligence.  I  told  him  that  I  did.  He  then  told  the 
following  story  in  proof  that  animals  do  reason  and 
think  more  than  people  give  them  credit  for  doing. 


76  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Pointing  to  a  spot  behind  some  sheltered  rocks,  he 
said  : 

"  I  was  over  there  once  in  the  dead  of  winter  look- 
ing after  my  traps.  I  had  come  up  this  wide  piece  of 
water  dragging  a  sled1  after  me  through  a  depth  of 
snow  which  about  reached  to  my  knees,  and  had  sat 
down  to  rest  for  a  few  minutes.  A  band  of  caribou 
appeared  in  sight  on  a  line  very  nearly  parallel  to  the 
one  I  had  made. 

"  My  track  was  soon  discovered  ;  then  first  one  bull 
went  up  to  it,  looked  at  it  and  turned  away  to  think  it 
over,  then  another  and  another,  until  four  out  of  the 
nineteen  animals  in  the  band  had  inspected  it. 

"  The  cows  and  calves  waited  quietly  until  a  decision 
was  reached.  One  of  the  younger  bulls  concluded  that 
there  was  no  danger  in  it  for  him,  and  he  made  a  few 
steps  forward,  but  none  of  the  others  followed  him. 
The  bull  which  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  grandfather  of 
the  bunch  made  a  second  inspection.  Then  he  looked 
up  and  down  and  crosswise  of  the  ice,  and  evidently 
made  up  his  mind  that  to  advance  meant  danger,  and 
that  safety  lay  in  beating  a  retreat. 

"  So  he  marshaled  the  band,  the  youngest  ones  lead- 
ing off,  then  the  cows,  and  lastly  the  bulls,  he  himself 
being  last  of  all. 

"  You  couldn't  call  this  instinct.  It  was  intelligent 
reasoning  that  brought  them  to  their  right  con- 
clusions." 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  CROW       77 

Henry  further  related  an  incident  where  a  bunch  of 
crows  had  come  upon  some  oats  that  had  been  spilled 
from  a  sled  on  the  hard  snow.  There  were  nine  of 
them.  True  to  their  custom,  one  flew  up  into  a  near-by 
tree  to  act  as  sentinel. 

"  On  the  far  side  of  the  road,"  said  Henry,  "  there 
were  some  low  bushes,  and,  happening  to  see  a  move- 
ment among  them,  I  watched  closely,  and  soon  saw  the 
head  of  ji  red  fox  with  his  eyes  greedily  fixed  upon  the 
feeding  birds.  Even  a  crow,  at  times  in  the  winter, 
must  taste  good  to  a  fox. 

"Master  Reynard  crawled  silently  on  his  belly 
toward  the  unsuspecting  birds,  and  I  thought  the 
sentinel  crow  in  the  tree  must  have  gone  to  sleep.  But 
not  he,  indeed.  He  waited  until  the  rapacious  streak 
of  reddish  fur  was  about  to  be  launched  like  a  flash  at 
the  nearest  crow,  when  '  Caw  !  Caw !  Caw  ! '  said  the 
one  on  the  tree  in  his  quickest  and  sharpest  manner, 
and  away  the  birds  flew,  leaving  the  fox  in  dire  chagrin 
at  his  failure. 

"  Then  the  sentinel  crow  started  to  jeer  and  laugh  at 
their  common  enemy  and  to  berate  him  with  vigor. 
The  fox  slunk  away,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  far  enough 
for  them  to  be  out  of  danger  the  sentinel  called  his 
brethren  back,  he  descending  to  feed  on  the  oats  while 
one  of  the  others  took  his  place  as  sentry. 

"  Now,"  said  Henry,  "  that  sentinel  acted  just  as  if 
he  was  full  of  mischief,  and  wanted  to  fool  the  fox  and 


78  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

to  have  a  good  laugh  at  his  discomfiture  when  the 
alarm  was  given.  Where  is  the  man,  if  he  had  the 
chance  under  similar  circumstances,  that  wouldn't  have 
done  the  same  thing — that  is,  if  he  had  had  as  much 
humor  in  him  as  the  crow  had  ? 

"  My  long  life  in  the  wilderness  and  in  the  woods  as 
a  trapper  has  convinced  me  firmly  that  not  only  have 
the  animals  intelligence,  but  plants  and  flowers  also 
have  intelligence. 

"  Did  you  ever  examine  the  pitcher  plant  carefully  ? 
You  did  ?  Well,  you  must  know  that  it  is  a  living  and 
intelligent  trap  for  spiders,  ants,  flies,  mosquitoes,  etc. ; 
that  it  first  catches  them  and  then  drowns  them,  and, 
lastly,  devours  and  digests  them. 

"  On  the  hottest  summer  day  and  in  the  greatest 
droughts  you'll  always  find  the  cups  of  these  plants 
half  filled  with  clear  cold  water — cold,  mind  you — and 
how  they  can  keep  the  water  cold  I  know  not.  The 
various  insects  enter  the  cup  or  trap  evidently  to  drink 
of  the  water,  and  when  they  try  to  get  out  they  find 
that  the  inside  surface  of  the  cup  is  lined  with  a  coat- 
ing of  little  spines  or  spikes  with  their  short  points 
reaching  downward. 

"  And  so  to  crawl  up  the  sides  of  the  plant  being  im- 
possible, after  struggling  with  might  and  main  until 
their  strength  is  exhausted,  they  drop  into  the  water 
and  are  speedily  dissected,  the  meaty  portions  being 
devoured,  while  the  wings  and  antennae  are  by  some  un- 


Copyright,  1905,  by  C.  H.  Graves 

LEAVING  THE  RIVER  END  OF  NORTHEAST  CARRY 

See  page  /op 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  CROW       79 

known  method  made  to  sink  to  the  bottom  and  finally 
to  be  packed  tightly  in  the  tube  of  the  root  of  the 
plant. 

"  Talk  about  the  cunning  of  the  tiger  and  his  blood- 
thirstiness  !  He  does  not  excel  in  either  of  these  traits 
the  lowly  pitcher  plant,  which  you  can  see  by  the 
thousands  in  most  of  the  wilderness  bogs  of  New 
Brunswick  and  Maine." 

Being  this  day  in  a  philosophic  mood,  Henry  gradu- 
ally took  up  the  question  of  creeds,  of  religious  beliefs, 
and  of  religious  practices.  In  answer  to  a  question  as 
to  the  sect  which  worshiped  in  a  little  church  at  the 
edge  of  the  settlement  which  we  had  to  pass  through 
just  before  we  reached  the  railroad,  a  man  had  told  us 
that  it  was  a  union  church  by  name,  but  in  reality  it 
was  Presbyterian,  as  the  majority  of  the  congregation 
were  of  that  faith. 

The  subscriptions  for  its  erection  were  asked  for  on 
the  broad  plea  that  it  was  to  be  a  union  church  and 
that  no  one  sect  was  to  dominate  it.  One  of  the  lead- 
ing men  requested  a  widow  to  subscribe  to  the  building 
fund,  and  she  asked  him  what  denomination  it  was  to 
be.  He  replied  that  it  was  to  be  for  all  religions  but 
the  Roman  Catholic. 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  she  said.  "  Well,  why  not  for  that, 
too  ?  Isn't  that  a  religion  as  much  as  the  Methodist, 
the  Presbyterian,  the  Jewish,  or  even  the  Moham- 
medan ?  " 


8o  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

To  this  he  could  make  no  adequate  reply  excepting 
that  Catholics  were  barred.  Commenting  on  this 
Henry — the  philosopher  of  the  woods,  the  man  who 
has  spent  nearly  sixty  years  in  studying  nature  and  in 
living  so  close  to  her  as  to  be  able  to  interpret  her  ever- 
varying  moods — said : 

"  What  rank  folly  it  is  for  men  to  quarrel  with  their 
most  intimate  friends,  even  with  their  own  families  at 
times,  on  questions  of  religious  doctrine,  which,  in  the 
end,  seem  only  like  the  splitting  of  hairs  !  How  many 
millions  of  people  have  been  killed  because  they 
wouldn't  worship  the  God  of  the  Jews  in  the  early 
days  of  Jewish  history  !  How  many  millions  more  of 
the  Jews  themselves  were  killed  because  they  wouldn't 
worship  God  according  to  the  light  of  the  Gentiles  ! 

"How  many  millions  of  so-called  Christians  were 
killed  because  they  did  not  worship  God  according  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  Koran,  and  the  instructions  of  Mo- 
hammed !  Then  look  at  the  millions  slain  by  the  Cath- 
olics in  their  day  of  strength  and  the  rapine  and  vio- 
lence shown  by  the  Protestants  when  their  day  of 
vengeance  arrived.  And  so  on  through  all  the  muta- 
tions of  human  life  since  the  world  began. 

"  Begging  money  for  churches ;  begging  money  to 
support  pastors ;  begging  money  for  current  expenses 
of  churches,  which  profess  to  be  for  the  salvation  of  all 
mankind,  excepting  for  those  who  do  not  believe  just 
as  you  do,  is  not  to  my  liking. 


THE  WISDOM  OF  THE  CROW       81 

"  In  days  of  old  if  a  man  dared  to  say  that  he  didn't 
— couldn't  believe — in  this  or  that  doctrine,  the  punish- 
ment might  be  '  off  with  his  head,'  or  burn  him  at  the 
stake,  or  throw  him  into  a  dungeon  to  die  like  a  dog. 

"  Ah,  yes ;  this  is  a  union  church,  for  all  sects — 
except  the  Catholics — and  there  you  see  sectarianism 
running  rampant.  In  place  of  charity  such  a  feeling 
begets  jealousy  and  rancor.  In  place  of  love,  hatred, 
malignant  hatred,  is  engendered." 

When  Henry  finished  his  peroration,  I  thought  of 
the  language  ef  Dr.  William  Cunningham  Gray,  the 
saintly  editor  of  the  Interior,  who  spent  a  great  por- 
tion of  his  long  life  in  the  woods,  and  who  shortly  be- 
fore his  death  wrote : 

"  It  has  been  my  highly  prized  privilege  to  return  to 
the  Adamic  conditions  of  existence,  to  live  in  the  para- 
dise of  God,  to  taste  the  exquisite  and  exhilarating  joys 
of  primitive  life.  Adam  was  under  disadvantages,  but, 
after  all,  he  was  the  happiest  man  of  his  race.  Let  us 
forsake  the  vapid  follies  of  fashion  and  dissipation  and 
return  to  a  life  as  simple  and  unostentatious,  as  benev- 
olent and  unselfish  as  that  of  our  Lord.  Let  us  free 
ourselves  from  the  vain  complexities  of  theology,  of 
philosophy  and  of  living  and  rise  to  the  pure,  free  air, 
and  to  the  simple  dignity  and  worth  of  true  manhood 
and  womanhood." 

The  wind  increasing  in  violence,  we  went  to  the 
camp,  had  our  dinner,  and  once  more  set  out  for  the 


82  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Caribou  Barren.  We  expected  to  find  the  lost  hunting- 
knife,  and  hoped  against  hope  that  we  might  see  some 
game  on  the  journey.  Two  days  before  this  a  large 
cow  moose  had  been  seen  feeding  in  some  tall  grass, 
and  now  on  entering  the  woods  opposite  to  this  spot 
we  discovered  this  same  cow.  She  was,  as  before, 
without  male  escort.  The  wind  blew  from  her  to  us, 
and  we  watched  her  for  a  few  minutes  while  she  fed, 
all  unconscious  of  our  presence.  When  we  walked  past 
her  it  was  interesting  to  see  how  very  quickly  she  got 
our  scent  and  how  speedily  she  could  disappear  into 
the  friendly  brush. 

We  tramped  back  and  forth  on  the  feeding  grounds 
of  the  caribou,  up  one  side  of  the  ridge  and  down  the 
other,  and  the  length  and  breadth  of  it,  but  neither 
hunting-knife  nor  caribou  did  we  see ;  nor  any  living 
animal,  excepting  the  cow  moose,  and  as  for  her,  she 
was  sacred,  and  therefore  not  to  be  meddled  with. 

The  result  of  this  day's  hunt  decided  Henry  in  de- 
termining that  we  should  return  to  Moccasin  Lake  on 
the  morrow,  making  an  early  start,  so  as  to  reach  there 
by  noon  time.  From  Moccasin  Lake  Camp  we  were  to 
try  Keed  Lake,  which  Henry  was  considerate  enough 
to  say  was  another  lake  set  in  the  apex  of  a  high  moun- 
tain, the  road  to  which  was  bad  enough  to  be  re- 
membered for  many,  many  years. 


CHAPTER  XI 
ONCE  MORE  A  BAD  MISS 

"O  Negligence,  fit. for  a  fool  to  fall  by." 

—HENRY  VIII. 

WE  packed  our  belongings  and  made  an  early  start 
for  Moccasin  Lake  Camp.  The  reason  for  our  change 
of  base  was  because  in  two  days  more  our  return 
journey  to  what  is  called  civilization  would  have  to  be 
commenced,  and  this  day's  tramp  would  put  us  a  "  day's 
march  nearer  home."  It's  the  saddest  part  of  a  hunt- 
ing vacation  when  you  have  to  turn  back  on  your 
tracks. 

When  you  are  on  the  forward  move,  the  mind 
is  always  ready  for  new  sights,  new  sounds,  and  new 
chances  for  game.  When  the  spirits  are  high,  and 
there's  an  eager  and  alert  look  in  the  eye,  your  step  is 
light  and  springy.  You  peer  into  this  cove  and  into 
that  one,  always  expecting  a  surprise.  You  scan  with 
rapid  glances  the  valley  that  unfolds  itself  before  you 
for  the  first  time.  You  look  at  all  the  soft  spots  in  the 
road  for  telltale  tracks.  You  crouch  around  the  big 
rock,  and  hold  your  breath  while  you  look.  That  high 
bunch  of  swale  grass  may  conceal  a  deer. 

Is  that  a  rock  away  at  the  far  end  of  the  lake,  or  is 
it — yes,  it  is — it's  a  moose  feeding. 


84  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  head  is  under  the  water  and  when  it  is  raised 
note  the  splash  of  the  water  as  the  antlers  cast  it  off  the 
blades,  like  throwing  it  up  with  a  shovel,  and  you 
know  it's  a  bull.  He's  got  your  wind  and  he's  off. 
Good-bye,  old  fellow.  I'll  look  for  you  another  time. 

But  now  we're  coming  to  a  dead-water.  That  piece 
of  dead-water  yonder  which  twists  and  turns  to  all 
points  of  the  compass  may  even  now  be  entertaining  a 
bull  moose  with  a  dinner  of  lily-pads,  a  dinner  always 
to  his  liking. 

But  the  return  trip  is  a  walk  without  ambition  and 
unspurred  by  curiosity,  and  therefore  the  distance  al- 
ways seems  to  be  greater  than  on  the  ingoing  trip. 
The  portage  over  the  high  ridge,  the  crossing  of  Birch 
Lake  in  the  pirogue,  were  now  but  commonplace  pro- 
ceedings, exciting  no  comment  whatever.  Henry 
made  a  couple  of  "  calls  "  at  Birch  Lake,  more  from 
custom  perhaps  than  from  the  expectancy  of  getting 
any  answers. 

But  partridges  were  plentiful,  and  he  soon  had  three 
of  these  fine  birds  hung  to  his  pack,  each  killed  with  a 
single  bullet. 

The  day  was  hot  and  sultry,  and  each  of  us  had  more 
or  less  of  a  load,  and  in  consequence  our  exertions 
brought  out  plenty  of  perspiration.  The  return  journey 
discovered  to  us  no  game,  no  new  tracks,  and  at  noon 
time  the  distance  was  covered,  and  we  were  back  again 
in  the  camp,  whence  I  had  started  but  a  few  days  be- 


ONCE  MORE  A  BAD  MISS  85 

fore,  buoyant  and  hopeful  of  coming  out  with  a  big 
moose  head,  a  caribou  head,  and  perhaps  even  a  bear. 

The  cook  lost  little  time  in  getting  a  meal  for  us. 
Henry  said  quietly,  "  Now  we'll  try  Keed  Lake,"  and 
we  were  soon  off  again.  A  few  steps  from  the  camp  a 
partridge  was  fired  at  and  evidently  killed,  but  it  fell 
in  some  brush  and  we  couldn't  find  it,  and  so  it  had  to 
be  left  until  our  return. 

Eeed  Lake  was  only  two  miles  away,  but  such  a  pair 
of  miles  you  never  saw !  The  road  was  largely  one  of 
smooth  boulders, — small  boulders,  medium-sized  boul- 
ders and  big  boulders.  The  ascent  was  steep  enough 
again  to  test  the  lungs,  and,  together  with  the  heat, 
made  us  pause  often  and  long.  In  these  rests  Henry 
was  again  philosophic  and  reminiscent. 

Speaking  once  more  of  the  intelligence  of  animals, 
he  used  the  reasoning  of  the  late  Dr.  W.  C.  Gray :  "  The 
moral  faculties  of  the  lower  animals  are  shown  in  the 
startling  likeness  to  the  language  and  tonal  effects  as 
used  by  man,  or  as  much  so  as  the  physical  conforma- 
tion of  the  organs  of  speech  will  permit. 

"  Anger,  defiance,  affection,  alarm,  fright,  sorrow, 
pain,  gladness,  exultation,  triumph,  derision  are  all 
heard  in  all  their  modulations  in  the  voices  and  modes 
of  expression  of  birds  and  quadrupeds  ;  language  well 
understood  by  civilized  man,  but  better  understood  by 
the  Indians  of  the  several  tribes,  each  of  which  speaks 
an  idiom  of  its  own. 


86  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

"Most  of  the  emotions  and  passions  are  well  ex- 
pressed in  the  soft  beaming  or  the  flash  of  the  eye. 
The  pose  of  the  body,  the  exhibition  of  weapons,  the 
tremor  of  the  muscles,  the  lofty,  suppliant  or  shamed 
carriage  of  the  head. 

"When  we  see  a  dog,  himself  hungry,  carry  food 
safely  to  his  master,  or  die  bravely  in  that  master's 
defense,  how  shall  we  escape  the  conviction  that  really 
noble  moral  qualities  are  present  in  the  phenomena  ? 
Notice  the  warm  affection  and  intelligent  understand- 
ing existing  between  such  widely  divergent  animals  as 
the  dog,  the  horse,  the  elephant,  the  seal,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  man  on  the  other. 

"  The  flowers  at  our  feet  look  up  into  our  faces  with 
expressions  so  sweet  and  benign  that  our  imaginations 
will  persist  in  investing  them  with  spirits  kindred  to 
our  own." 

The  good  doctor  elsewhere  says :  "  One  Sunday 
I  found  a  sick  horse  lying  upon  the  cold,  wet 
ground.  When  he  saw  me  he  called  for  help  at  once, 
lifted  his  head,  touched  his  side  with  his  nose,  and 
groaned.  I  told  him  I  was  very  sorry  for  him,  and  that 
he  must  not  lie  there,  but  get  up  and  go  home,  and 
that  he  should  have  a  wrarm  bed  and  some  medicine. 

"  He  was  too  weak  and  benumbed  to  rise  alone,  but 
he  and  I  combined  our  forces,  and  he  was  soon  on  his 
feet,  and  he  led  the  way  with  feeble  steps.  I  did  not 
know  where  his  home  was,  but  he  showed  me. 


GOOD-BY  TO  GENIAL  JOE  SMITH 


See  page  in 


ONCE  MORE  A  BAD  MISS  87 

"  I  do  not  say  that  the  man  who  owned  him  had  no 
soul.  I  only  say  that  the  fact  of  the  existence  of  his 
soul  had  to  be  reached  by  an  abstract  mental  process, 
as  we  determine  the  existence  of  the  ultimate  atom." 

In  my  own  experience  of  three  years  ago,  a  young 
bull  moose  was  kept  a  prisoner  to  my  certain  knowl- 
edge for  four  days  and  a  half,  without  food  or  water. 
He  had  suffered  the  misfortune  of  having  his  right  hind 
leg  caught  in  some  manner  back  of  a  cedar  root.  The 
spot  where  he  was  thus  forcibly  "  held  up,"  or  down, 
rather,  was  but  three  feet  from  the  water  of  the 
thoroughfare  at  the  head  of  "  Our  Lake." 

With  his  three  other  feet  free  he  was  during  the 
whole  of  this  time  trying  to  free  himself,  and  was  con- 
stantly digging  for  himself  a  muddy  grave.  The  water 
rushed  in  as  fast  as  he  dug  and  the  result  was  an 
enveloping  compound  of  sticky  mud. 

I  had  heard  him  plainly  on  Friday  and  Saturday 
nights  because  the  wind  was  from  his  quarter.  Sunday 
night  it  changed  and  on  that  night  and  the  following 
night  we  heard  no  sounds.  On  Tuesday  morning  a 
guide  and  I  passed  right  by  him  without  seeing  him,  al- 
though as  I  have  already  said  he  was  but  three  feet 
from  the  water. 

On  the  return  trip,  however,  the  guide,  who  had  left 
me  more  than  a  mile  above,  again  heard  the  noise  and 
soon  located  the  cause. 

Going  back  to  the  camp,  he  enlisted  the  aid  of  one 


88  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

of  our  party,  an  expert  photographer,  and  together 
they  paddled  up  to  the  imprisoned  moose.  With  an 
axe  the  cedar  root  was  cut  and  the  moose's  leg  was 
freed. 

The  next  thing  was  to  get  the  intelligent  animal  out. 
They  used  a  sapling  as  a  lever,  putting  it  between  his 
hind  legs,  with  a  log  for  a  fulcrum.  With  one  man 
pulling  at  his  antlers,  the  other  hoisting  him  by 
means  of  the  lever,  and  the  moose  doing  all  that  he 
could  to  help  them,  he  was  at  last  liberated. 

Both  men  say  that  he  thanked  them  as  eloquently 
with  his  eyes,  and  by  turning  round  and  looking  at 
them  with  every  step  he  took,  until  he  waded  across  the 
thoroughfare,  as  any  human  being  could  possibly  have 
done. 

All  his  instinctive  dread  of  human  beings  had  disap- 
peared, and  he  showed  by  his  actions  that  he  appreciated 
to  the  full  the  fact  that  the  men  had  actually  saved  his 
life. 

This  was  on  a  Tuesday — a  few  days  afterward  we 
were  out — my  guide  and  I — at  night  when  the  moon  was 
shining  very  bright  and  the  air  was  absolutely  still. 
We  heard  a  pair  of  moose  feeding  up  the  stream.  Pad- 
dling silently  toward  them  we  first  came  up  with  a  very 
large  cow  feeding  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  brook. 
And  next  we  found  that  she  was  mated  with  the 
same  little  bull  whom  we  had  rescued,  for  he  was  now 
her  lord  and  protector. 


ONCE  MORE  A  BAD  MISS  89 

But  now  for  our  excursion  to  Reed  Lake.  When  we 
arrived  there  the  water  was  discovered  to  be  very 
roily,  so  much  so  that  any  novice  might  know  from 
looking  at  it  that  moose  were  feeding  in  and  around  it. 

The  lake  was  fed  by  a  small  brook  of  deliciously 
cold  and  transparent  water,  in  which  the  young  brook 
trout  darted  to  and  fro  with  great  animation.  I  at 
once  got  to  my  knees  upon  a  low  rock  in  this  stream, 
and  drank  my  fill  of  the  mountain  nectar. 

When  I  arose,  Henry  said :  "I  saw  a  bull  moose 
just  step  into  the  woods  at  the  other  end  of  the  lake. 
Do  you  see  the  cow  there  on  the  right-hand  side  ?  " 

With  a  pair  of  field-glasses  I  looked,  and  then  told 
him  that  I  saw  the  cow  plainly  enough,  but  no  bull. 

Henry  simply  said :  "  We'll  find  him  in  the  shadow 
of  the  trees  right  beyond  the  cow,  but  we  must  cross 
the  lake  and  work  up  to  the  leeward  of  them." 

There  was  a  peninsula  that  jutted  out  into  the  lake 
considerably ;  it  was  perhaps  a  half  mile  away,  and  for 
this  point  we  directed  our  steps.  On  coming  to  the 
end  of  this  projecting  piece  of  land  we  got  down  to  our 
hands  and  knees ;  and  well  it  was  that  we  did  so,  as  we 
found  another  cow  moose  feeding  in  a  cove  to  the  left 
of  us,  and  she  either  heard  us  or  winded  us  slightly,  as 
we  saw  her  mane  go  up,  while  she  turned  around  and 
faced  our  place  of  concealment. 

It  wouldn't  do  to  frighten  her,  because  she  was  very 
close  to  us,  so  we  lay  prone  on  the  ground  until  she 


go  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

finally  regained  confidence  and  started  feeding  again. 
Then  we  raised  up,  and,  with  the  aid  of  the  field- 
glasses,  we  plainly  made  out  a  splendid-looking  bull 
moose,  standing  like  a  statue  in  the  edge  of  the  woods 
behind  the  other  cow. 

The  way  the  wind  was  blowing  there  was  but  one 
thing  to  do,  and  that  was  to  back  out  until  we  had  got 
clear  of  the  cove  to  our  left,  and  then  make  a  wide 
detour  around  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  keeping  back  far 
enough  so  as  not  to  alarm  the  cow  in  the  cove,  and  also 
far  enough  so  that  when  we  reached  the  far  side  we 
would  be  on  a  line  with  the  bull  and  somewhat  behind 
the  other  cow  moose. 

I  have  already  said  the  day  was  hot.  In  addition  to 
the  heat,  there  were  many  windfalls  to  go  under  or 
over,  a  bad  wet  bog  to  cross  and  the  ubiquitous  alders 
and  cedars  to  penetrate. 

This  work  required  patience,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
no  minutes  were  to  be  lost ;  for  if  the  cow  should  finish 
feeding  and  go  into  the  woods  her  mate  would  follow, 
and  all  our  labor  would  go  for  nothing. 

Therefore  we  hurried  as  much  as  we  dared,  and,  as 
for  perspiration,  we  were  both  dripping  with  it.  The 
last  obstruction,  the  alders,  was  at  last  reached.  These 
were  carefully  parted,  and  once  more  Henry  said : 

"  There's  your  moose  ! " 

He  was  a  fine-looking  moose.  His  skin  was  glossy 
and  black.  He  stood  erect,  his  head  and  neck  raised 


ONCE  MORE  A  BAD  MISS  91 

to  the  highest  reach,  and  he  was  not  over  thirty  yards 
away. 

On  our  side  of  him  a  dead  tree,  about  ten  inches  in 
diameter,  reached  out  parallel  with  the  middle  of  his 
body.  I  hesitated  a  second  or  so  in  debating  whether 
to  fire  over  or  under  this  impediment,  and  finally 
reached  the  decision  to  fire  under  it.  I  coolly  and  care- 
fully took  aim  and  fired.  The  moose  quickly  turned  to 
run,  and  as  he  did  so  I  fired  two  more  shots  at  him, 
wondering  between  times  why  he  did  not  drop. 

He  showed  wonderful  alertness  in  getting  out  of 
sight,  and,  with  what  wind  I  had  left,  I  ran  after  him, 
but  he  disappeared  as  if  by  magic.  In  fact,  it  was 
very  hard  even  to  trail  him,  and  we  didn't  succeed  in 
getting  a  certain  and  sure  sight  of  his  line  of  retreat 
until  we  had  circled  twice  over  quite  a  good  piece  of 
ground,  reaching  back  to  a  small  ridge. 

There  were  no  signs  of  blood,  no  signs  that  he  was 
faltering  in  his  movements ;  but  plenty  of  signs  to  show 
that  he  hadn't  been  hit,  excepting  where  we  found  a 
bunch  of  hair,  which  had  been  shot  off  his  mane  as  he 
swung  around. 

To  say  that  I  was  doubly  chagrined  at  this  second 
streak  of  bad  shooting  does  not  at  all  do  justice  to  my 
feelings.  For  the  life  of  me  I  couldn't  account  for  it, 
excepting  upon  the  theory  that  the  elevation  and  the 
state  of  exhaustion  which  I  was  in  after  my  hard  walk 
and  climb  in  both  instances  must  have  made  me  unsteady. 


92  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

In  both  cases,  however,  I  had  clearly  and  cleanly 
overshot  the  quarry,  and  that  was  all  that  could  be  said 
about  it. 

Some  ten  days  afterward,  when  I  was  at  my  camp 
in  Maine,  a  companion  sportsman,  who  was  making  his 
first  hunting  trip  to  the  Maine  woods,  for  an  hour  or  so 
carried  my  rifle,  while  I  carried  his,  which  was  much 
lighter. 

We  had  a  hard  tramp  of  several  miles  and  when  we 
reached  the  objective  point  of  our  trip — a  newly  dis- 
covered dead-water — I  made  a  fire  and  was  boiling 
some  water,  while  he  was  carelessly  examining  my  rifle. 
He  casually  remarked  to  me :  "  I  see  you  carry  your 
rifle  with  the  sight  elevated  at  a  hundred  yards."  I 
made  some  passing  remark  in  answer,  but  thought  no 
more  about  it,  until  after  he  had  left  for  home,  and  one 
night  when  I  was  lying  out  at  an  upper  dam,  his  re- 
mark came  back  to  me,  and  I  looked  at  the  sights  and 
found  they  were  set  for  an  elevation  of  two  hundred 
yards. 

Then  I  knew  why  I  had  made  two  such  shameful 
misses.  I  have  always  made  it  a  practice  to  keep 
my  sights  at  zero,  and  to  elevate  when  necessity  re- 
quired me  to  do  so.  For  three  weeks  before  my  de- 
parture for  New  Brunswick,  the  rifle  had  been  stand- 
ing in  my  office  uncovered,  and  my  theory  is  that  some 
employee  had  innocently  tampered  with  the  sights, 
elevated  them,  and  then  set  the  rifle  down,  and  as  the 


ONCE  MORE  A  BAD  MISS  93 

two  chances  which  I  had  were  both  remarkably  close 
shots,  I  naturally  fired  away  over  the  moose  each  time. 
Of  course,  it  was  nothing  but  gross  carelessness  upon 
my  part  in  not  looking  at  the  rifle  and  seeing  that  the 
sights  were  all  right  before  shooting,  and  hence  the  line 
at  the  head  of  this  article,  which  Shakespeare  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  Cardinal  Wolsey  after  his  fall  from  great- 
ness, is  a  timely  and  a  proper  finish  to  it. 

"  O  Negligence,  fit  for  a  fool  to  fall  by." 

In  relating  the  above  incident  to  a  friend  who  has  had 
much  experience  in  shooting  big  game  he  said  that  once 
in  British  Columbia  he  was  hunting  wild  goats  on  the 
Selkirk  Mountains.  He  had  spent  day  after  day  climb- 
ing up  and  around  the  snow-clad  mountain  peaks, 
when  he  was  compelled  to  lie  down  and  rest.  It  was 
not  long  before  five  goats  appeared  around  the  corner 
of  a  jutting  crag,  perhaps  thirty  yards  away.  Getting 
two  good  big  rams  in  line  he  fired  and  missed  and  as 
they  ran  he  fired  again  and  again  with  nothing  but 
misses.  Examination  showed  him  afterward  that  his 
rifle  was  sighted  for  five  hundred  yards.  This  was  the 
only  chance  he  had  in  his  whole  trip  of  bagging  a  moun- 
tain goat. 


CHAPTER  XII 
OUR  RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  CAMP 

"  Winding  up  days  with  toil,  and  nights  with  sleep." 

—HENRY  V. 

Now  came  the  exodus  from  Moccasin  Lake  Camp 
to  the  home  camp,  and  on  the  morning  following  the 
experience  at  Reed  Lake,  we  packed  our  superfluous 
things  into  a  big  bundle,  which  our  sturdy  cook  was  to 
"  tote  "  homeward,  while  Henry  and  I  were  to  make  a 
wide  detour  covering  two  more  lakes. 

For  once  we  followed  a  good  road  and,  although  the 
weather  was  snappy  with  the  low  temperature  on  this 
early  October  morning,  it  was  a  very  enjoyable  tramp 
to  the  first  lake  which  was  named  after  a  man  called 
Smith.  On  the  three  miles  that  were  traversed  before 
this  lake  came  into  sight,  no  game  of  any  kind  was 
seen,  not  even  a  partridge  or  red  squirrel. 

We  passed  a  set  of  lumber  camps  that  seemed  to  be 
in  good  condition  excepting  that  the  roofs  had  been 
torn  off  by  a  man  who  desired  the  material  to  cover 
some  camps  which  he  was  building  himself.  This 
action  was  rudely  resented  by  the  owner  of  the  camps 
who  sent  the  roof-robber  a  bill  for  the  damages,  which 
was  promptly  settled. 

We  came  upon  the  lake  at  its  upper  end.     There 


OUR  RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  CAMP    95 

were  some  fresh  moose  tracks  along  the  shore,  and  the 
water  was  somewhat  roiled.  Apparently  moose  had 
been  feeding  there  during  the  night  and  they  had  left 
early  in  the  morning. 

There  were  some  large  rocks  on  the  shore  and  plenty 
of  tall  grass.  The  sun  had  now  come  out  strong  and 
warm.  We  watched  the  shores  of  the  lake  from  be- 
hind the  rocks  for  quite  a  while.  At  the  far  end,  three 
black  ducks  were  feeding.  They  splashed  about,  div- 
ing and  playing  in  the  water  and  making  considerable 
noise. 

As  they  often  bunched  up  so  that  a  shot  with  the 
.22  calibre  rifle  might  be  successful,  I  asked  Henry  if  I 
hadn't  better  make  a  circuit  of  the  lake  with  the  rifle 
and  try  to  get  a  shot  at  them.  He  said  that  they  were 
now  through  feeding  and  would  soon  be  off.  Hardly 
had  he  spoken  the  words,  when  they  got  up  with  much 
clamor  and  flew  away.  This  silent,  observing  man  had 
noted  by  their  actions  that  their  appetites  had  been 
satisfied,  and  they  had  taken  to  playing;  after  that 
would  come  their  departure. 

No  sign  of  the  moose  reappearing,  we  trudged  on  to 
the  next  lake,  a  distance  of  a  mile  and  a  half.  At  the 
end  at  which  we  came  in,  the  ground  was  boggy  and 
wet. 

Making  a  circuit  of  the  shore,  we  came  to  the 
bleached  and  whitened  skeleton  of  a  moose,  said  to 
have  been  killed  during  close  time  by  a  man  who 


96  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

wanted  to  test  a  new  rifle ;  the  distance  at  which  he 
had  fired  was  said  to  have  been  250  yards. 

It  would  seem  that  the  rifle  must  have  been  all  right 
and  the  aim  sure,  or  the  victim  whose  body  was  substi- 
tuted for  a  rifle  butt  would  not  have  been  lying  where 
we  found  him. 

The  wind  had  now  freshened  to  such  a  velocity  that 
hunting  was  out  of  the  question,  and  we  headed 
for  the  home  camp,  where  we  arrived  in  time  for 
dinner. 

Here  we  found  a  gentleman  who  had  been  out  over 
thirty  days  after  a  moose,  and  although  he  had  had 
plenty  of  chances,  yet  he  was  unsuccessful.  He  was  to 
start  homeward  as  soon  as  a  team  and  a  saddle  horse 
would  arrive,  the  one  to  take  his  dunnage  and  the 
other  for  him  to  ride. 

He  didn't  seem  at  all  chagrined  at  his  want  of  suc- 
cess, although  he  emptied  the  magazine  of  his  rifle  in 
firing  at  one  moose.  He  took  the  matter  philosophic- 
ally and  had  very  little  to  say  about  his  repeated 
misses. 

In  the  afternoon  we  made  a  trip  to  Irland  Lake  and 
found  some  really  fresh  tracks  there,  and  in  conse- 
quence we  made  quite  an  extensive  detour  to  see  if  we 
couldn't  come  in  closer  touch  with  the  makers  of  the 
tracks.  Henry,  in  the  meantime,  made  frequent 
calls  with  the  birch-bark  horn,  but  no  answer  was 
elicited. 


ARRIVING  AT  "  OUR  LAKE  " 


See  page  113 


OUR  RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  CAMP    97 

On  reaching  the  camp  at  night  we  informed  the  un- 
successful hunter  of  what  we  had  seen  on  the  after- 
noon's jaunt,  advising  him  to  try  his  luck  there  during 
the  remaining  two  days  of  his  stay ;  but  all  his  am- 
bition for  hunting  was  gone,  and  we  talked  to  deaf 
ears. 

When  night  came  I  gathered  a  few  green  boughs 
and,  laying  them  on  the  floor  of  the  camp  for  a  bed, 
I  got  into  my  sleeping  bag  and  slept  until  daylight. 

We  had  our  last  hunt  before  starting  back  during 
this  forenoon,  which  was  also  without  result,  although 
we  covered  quite  a  distance  until  dinner  time  arrived. 

After  dinner  Henry,  the  cook,  and  the  writer  got 
into  our  canoe  at  two-thirty,  and  with  the  wind  blowing 
a  light  gale,  which  made  our  deeply  laden  canoe  come 
perilously  close  to  shipping  water  enough  to  sink  her, 
we  crossed  the  big  lake  of  the  Southwest  Miramichi  in 
an  hour  and  ten  minutes. 

On  the  farther  shore  I  built  a  camp-fire,  while  Henry 
went  back  with  some  potatoes  to  the  home  camp.  The 
team  which  was  to  take  our  stuff  out  the  next  morning 
soon  arrived,  and  we  had  our  supper  in  the  same  camp 
where  we  had  found  the  Scotch  colonel  with  "  that 
damned  cook  "  on  our  arrival  the  Wednesday  previous. 

I  had  now  been  "  in  "  altogether  but  eight  days,  and 
when  I  lay  down  on  the  ground  to  sleep  that  cold,  cold 
night  of  the  8th  of  October,  when  the  ice  formed 
along  the  edges  of  the  lake  before  morning,  I  realized 


98  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

the  fact  that  I  had  crowded  into  those  eight  clays  more 
of  continually  changing  incident,  of  changing  scenery, 
and  of  unique  experience  than  in 'any  other  like  period 
of  time  in  my  life. 

It  had  been,  with  the  exception  of  a  portion  of  one 
forenoon  when  we  waited  on  a  dead-water  for  the  wind 
to  go  down,  or  to  change,  an  unending  strenuous  hunt, 
in  spite  of  wind,  rain,  cold  or  heat. 

The  nights  were  always  cold,  and  the  days  remark- 
ably warm  for  the  season.  The  hunt  was  now  really 
over,  and  unless  we  could  strike  something  on  the 
journey  back  to  the  settlement — which  would  take 
three  days — we  would  reach  Fredericton  empty- 
handed. 

On  the  morning  of  the  9th  of  October,  having  break- 
fasted early,  fed  the  horses  and  loaded  the  dunnage  on 
the  wagon  ready  for  the  long  trip,  the  cavalcade  left 
at  seven  o'clock. 

On  the  journey  "  in  "  I  had  thought  it  best  to  ride 
on  horseback,  which  I  did  with  much  comfort  and 
pleasure.  Now,  however,  I  determined  to  make  the 
return  trip  on  foot,  as  I  felt  hardened  and  muscular 
enough  to  walk  any  reasonable  distance  without 
fatigue. 

Henry  planned  that  he  and  I  should  take  a  different 
route  from  that  followed  by  the  team  for  the  first  day, 
so  as  to  be  out  of  hearing  of  the  crunching  noise  the 
wheels  made  on  the  hard  flinty  stones  as  the  wagon 


OUR  RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  CAMP    99 

and  horses  pounded  along,  up  one  mountainside  and 
down  another. 

Our  route  followed  a  road  which  had  been  used  as  a 
logging  road  some  five  years  previous.  It  was,  in  con- 
sequence, full  of  the  usual  small  growth  of  alders 
and  in  places  little  firs  and  occasionally  young  cedars, 
with  many  blow  downs  to  get  under  or  over. 

Henry  shot  four  or  five  partridges  during  the  fore- 
noon which  were  all  the  game  we  saw.  We  visited  two 
pieces  of  dead-water,  and  one  good-sized  lake,  which 
went  by  the  name  of  the  Depot  Camp  Lake ;  and  these 
digressions  from  the  road  were  all  made  with  the  ever- 
present  expectancy  of  seeing  something.  While  noth- 
ing was  seen  they  added  materially  to  the  mileage 
traveled. 

A  halt  was  made  at  one  of  Henry's  camps  for  lunch. 
Here  he  had  left  a  reserve  supply  of  blankets  for  the 
use  of  his  various  hunting  parties ;  also  flour,  cooking 
utensils,  dishes,  knives,  forks,  etc. 

Some  vandals  had  spent  one  or  more  nights  there, 
and  had  left  things  in  dire  confusion.  Besides,  out  of 
pure  wantonness,  they  had  thrown  some  knives  and 
forks  outside,  presumably  rather  than  wash  them.  That 
men  would  do  such  tricks  seems  incredible,  but  the 
evidences  were  all  there  to  show  how  despicably  mean 
some  persons  can  be. 

The  afternoon's  walk  was  likewise  unfruitful  of 
sighting  any  game.  We  camped  that  night  on  the 


ioo  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

bank  of  a  famous  salmon  river,  and  listened  to  the 
stories  of  the  migrations  of  the  salmon  ;  of  how  the  fish 
ascend  this  river  to  the  spawning  beds ;  how  the  female 
salmon  clears  out  a  nice,  clean,  gravelly  place,  where 
she  can  deposit  her  precious  eggs  to  the  best  advantage ; 
how  the  male  swims  around  her  to  protect  her  and  the 
roe  from  her  enemies ;  and  how,  at  such  times,  the 
dorsal  fin  of  the  male  may  be  seen  in  the  water  as  he 
slowly  circles  round  and  round  the  mother  fish,  driving 
away  predatory  interlopers.  We  were  told  of  a  man 
who  called  himself  a  sportsman — God  save  the  mark — 
who  at  such  times  watched  the  stream  for  signs  of  the 
male  fish  circling  around  the  female  to  protect  her; 
and  when  the  dorsal  fin  of  one  of  these  glorious 
salmon  appeared  above  the  surface  of  the  water  the 
sound  of  his  rifle  would  be  heard.  A  noble  fish  would 
turn  belly  up  and  the  "  sportsman  "  would  wade  out  to 
drag  him  in. 

Next  day  we  were  off  long  before  the  team  started, 
in  order  to  be  ahead  of  the  noise  of  the  wagon.  Some 
few  miles  from  our  camping  place  Henry  left  me  to 
visit  one  of  his  camps,  a  mile  or  more  from  the  road, 
and  I  jogged  along  very  quietly  and  cautiously. 

Turning  a  bend  in  the  road  I  saw  my  first  deer  of 
this  whole  trip.  It  was  a  fine  young  buck,  and  the 
fattest  I  ever  saw.  It  was  a  long  shot,  and  rather  a 
nice  one  to  make  for  the  centre  of  his  chest,  but  the 
bullet  went  true  and  he  ran  but  a  few  yards  before  he 


OUR  RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  CAMP  101 

fell.  When  Henry  came  up  it  didn't  take  long  to  dress 
the  deer  and  carry  it  to  the  wagon. 

That  night  it  was  hung  up  and  a  smudge  fire  was 
built,  over  which  the  carcass  was  smoked  for  a  couple 
of  hours  and  then  sprinkled  with  pepper  to  keep  off 
the  blow-flies.  This  deer  I  shipped  whole  to  Philadel- 
phia, where  it  arrived  four  days  after,  in  splendid  con- 
dition. 

After  killing  the  deer  we  came  to  Hurd  Lake,  where 
we  had  seen  a  large  cow  moose  on  the  journey  "  in." 
Henry  had  heard  of  a  fine  dead-water  two  and  a  half 
miles  from  this  lake  that  he  thought  we  ought  to  visit. 
A  high  ridge  had  to  be  crossed,  and  then  we  came 
down  to  the  water  again  on  the  other  side  of  it.  We 
found  the  dead-Avater,  and  it  was  a  beautifully  secluded 
spot.  While  Henry  tried  his  birch-bark  call,  I  was 
much  interested  in  watching  an  apparent  migration  of 
spiders  across  a  wide  pool. 

A  long,  slender  piece  of  spider's  silk  would  come 
floating  by,  away  up  in  the  air  with  a  spider  at  the 
bottom  of  it,  and  this  would  be  followed  by  so  many 
others  that  it  seemed  they  must  be  acting  in  concert. 

We  spent  a  half  hour  or  more  at  this  spot,  then 
we  crossed  the  ridge  again  and  crept  as  silently  as 
possible  to  Hurd  Lake.  Here  We  seated  ourselves  at 
the  leeward  end  of  the  lake  and  watched  and  waited. 

In  a  very  feAV  minutes  we  heard  a  branch  break  on 
the  far  side  of  the  lake,  and  soon  a  calf  moose  stepped 


102  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

to  the  edge  of  the  forest  and  next  into  the  water.  It 
was  followed  by  a  cow  moose,  its  mother,  no  doubt, 
who  evidently  did  not  feel  at  ease.  We  imagined  that 
there  must  have  been  an  eddy  in  the  wind  which 
carried  back  to  her  the  tainted  air  from  a  pair  of 
human  beings.  At  any  rate  she  stepped  into  the  water 
and  looked  right  over  in  our  direction,  and  we  saw  her 
mane  go  up.  In  a  few  minutes  she  decided  there  was 
surely  danger  and  out  she  went,  followed  by  the  young 
moose. 

Another  small  lake  we  visited  before  reaching  camp. 
Here  we  saw  yet  another  cow  moose,  and  she  likewise 
winded  us;  but  she  was  in  no  way  retiring,  as  she 
bawled  and  roared  for  all  she  was  worth. 

Henrv  made  a  call  with  the  horn  to  see  if  she  was 
accompanied  by  a  bull,  but  we  received  no  answer,  and 
so  we  went  to  our  resting  place,  very  tired  and  very 
hungry. 

The  last  day  of  our  trip  dawned  cloudy  and  over- 
cast. Henry  said,  "No  rain,"  and  trusting  to  his 
judgment  we  were  off  early.  But  for  once  Henry 
was  not  a  good  weather  prophet.  At  8:30  it  com- 
menced to  rain  and  from  that  time  on  until  late  in  the 
afternoon  it  was  a  downpour,  not  simply  a  rain.  When 
we  came  near  Salmon  Brook  Lake,  where  we  had  seen 
the  big  bull  on  our  road  "  in,"  we  went  over  to  it  in 
spite  of  the  rain.  Tracks  there  were,  many  of  them, 
and  fresh  in  the  bargain,  but  no  moose  were  seen. 


OUR  RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  CAMP    103 

After  that  it  was  a  wet  tramp,  tramp,  tramp !  In 
spite  of  oilskin  clothes  and  sou'wester  hat,  the  rain 
trickled  down  our  backs  and  our  boots  filled  with 
water.  All  things  must  have  an  end,  however,  and 
about  half-past  four  we  arrived  at  the  edge  of  the 
settlement,  eight  miles  beyond  which  was  the  railroad. 

A  change  of  dry  clothes  for  our  wet  ones,  a  hot 
supper  to  appease  our  appetites,  and  a  clean  bed  en- 
abled us  to  pass  a  restful  night.  The  following  morn- 
ing we  were  driven  to  the  railroad  station.  .  .  . 
In  due  time  we  landed  in  Fredericton,  the  capital  of 
the  province  of  New  Brunswick. 

Here  I  said  good-bye  to  many  friends  by  whom  I 
had  been  treated  with  the  most  kindly  courtesy  before 
starting  "in."  Among  them  was  Mr.  Robert  Allen, 
the  secretary  of  the  Sportsmen's  Association  of  New 
Brunswick,  through  whose  kind  interposition  I  was 
taken  to  a  most  delightfully  located  club  house  on  the 
bank  of  the  great  river  St.  Johns,  owned  by  the 
Kaskaketo  Club. 

Here  a  dinner  was  cooked  and  served  by  some  of  the 
members  in  a  style  of  excellence  that  a  "  chef  "  might 
envy.  Song  and  story  followed  the  dinner.  The  day 
was  balmy  and  the  river  placid.  I  saw  a  dainty  canoe 
on  the  waterside,  and,  entering  it,  I  enjoyed  paddling 
across  and  up  and  down  that  noble  river. 

At  6 : 30  on  the  evening  of  October  15th,  the  train 
was  taken  for  Greenville,  Maine,  on  Moosehead  Lake, 


104  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

and  as  the  train  pulled  out  of  that  beautiful  city  of 
Fredericton  I  mentally  bade  a  fond  good-bye  to  the 
rugged  an  dinteresting  game  country  of  the  Southwest 
Miramichi  River  and  congratulated  myself  upon  hav- 
ing had  a  strenuous,  but  a  royal  hunting  trip,  the 
memories  of  which  will  not  be  effaced  as  long  as  '•  the 
lamp  of  life  holds  out  to  burn." 


CHAPTER  XIII 
FIERCE  AND  EXTENSIVE  FOREST  FIRES 

"  The  winds  are  aw'd,  nor  dare  to  breathe  aloud ; 
The  air  seems  never  to  have  borne  a  cloud." 

LEAVING  Fredericton,  New  Brunswick,  in  the  yet 
early  evening,  we  were  to  travel  to  Vanceboro  and 
there  to  take  the  through  train  over  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railroad  to  Greenville  Junction,  Maine. 

I  have  traveled  much  over  the  Canadian  Pacific 
Railroad,  having  crossed  the  continent  on  a  hunting 
trip  over  its  rails.  Our  party,  which  was  a  large  one, 
stopped  at  such  stations  in  the  great  hunting  regions 
of  the  northwest  territories  as  seemed  most  likely  to 
furnish  the  best  opportunities  to  find  game,  and  we 
always  found  the  trainmen  and  the  operating  officials 
courteous  to  a  degree. 

In  one  place  where  we  were  camped  for  a  week, 
among  a  settlement  of  Creek  Indians,  where  the 
water  was  so  impregnated  with  alkali  as  to  make  it 
nearly  undrinkable,  a  locomotive  was  daily  sent,  a 
distance  of  twenty  miles,  with  a  tender  full  of  fresh, 
sweet  water  for  our  use.  This  was  done  without 
charge,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  without  request. 
Wherever  our  car  was  unhitched  from  the  train  on 


io6  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

a  siding,  some  little  unexpected  courtesy  was  always 
provided  for  us. 

On  this  present  journey  to  Greenville  Junction  the 
same  solicitous  care  of  the  passengers'  comfort  was 
shown  by  the  train  crew.  On  account  of  a  de^ 
tention  from  a  hot  box,  the  train  arrived  somewhat 
late  and  pulled  into  the  station  just  at  midnight. 
There  are  two  large  hotels  at  the  junction,  but  neither 
of  them  had  enterprise  enough  to  have  a  conveyance 
or  a  man  to  help  with  the  baggage  or  to  pilot  the  way 
through  the  dark  and  foggy  night  to  the  hotel. 

The  dunnage,  perforce,  had  to  be  left  in  the  station 
until  the  following  morning.  It  has  happened  in 
almost  all  of  my  trips  to  and  from  this  region  that 
the  dunnage  sacks  have  been  opened  somewhere,  and 
some  much-needed  article  stolen.  Once  it  was  a  new 
pair  of  laced  hunting  boots ;  at  another  time  a  fine  pair 
of  field-glasses  ;  again,  a  pair  of  long  rubber  boots,  and 
upon  this  trip  a  pair  of  brand-new  moose-shank  shoes, 
a  sou'wester  hat  and  a  few  minor  articles  of  clothing. 

A  Philadelphia  woman  last  season  had  a  large  trunk 
taken.  It  was  filled  with  clothing  needed  for  a 
month's  stay  at  "Our  Lake,"  and  she  was,  in  conse- 
quence, put  to  dire  straits  to  find  enough  things  to 
wear  to  keep  her  warm.  She  had  to  resort  to  the  use 
of  a  man's  shirts,  neckties  and  underwear,  and  to 
borrow  a  couple  of  skirts  from  some  more  fortunate 
woman.  The  trunk  has  not  turned  up  even  yet. 


FOREST  FIRES  107 

In  the  province  of  New  Brunswick  some  forest  fires 
were  raging,  but  we  experienced  no  trouble  from  them, 
although  the  sky  at  times  was  overcast  with  smoke. 

Some  thirty  miles  away,  on  the  line  of  the  new 
Grand  Trunk  Pacific  Railroad,  now  in  course  of  con- 
struction, we  could  hear  the  explosions  made  from  the 
use  of  large  charges  of  dynamite  in  blasting  through 
hard  strata  of  rock.  These  severe  concussions  may 
have  been  the  reason  why  we  had  two  days  of  almost 
torrential  rain. 

In  Maine  we  saw  the  forest  fires.  In  one  section  four 
hundred  men  were  fighting  the  fire  demon,  in  another 
two  hundred  and  fifty  were  engaged  in  the  same 
arduous  work.  There  were  no  explosions,  however, 
and  no  rains  at  all  during  our  rather  long  stay. 
The  atmosphere  was,  in  consequence,  exceedingly  dry 
and  resonant,  to  such  a  degree  that  it  was  difficult  to 
hunt  with  success,  the  slightest  noise  being  heard  at 
what  would  seem  to  be  an  almost  incredible  distance. 

A  half  century  ago,  a  fierce  fire  swept  through  Aroo- 
stook  County  in  Maine,  and  burnt  most  of  the  timber 
down  to  the  ground.  This  county  is  a  large  one,  and 
runs  parallel  upon  its  northeastern  boundary  to  the  St. 
Johns  River — the  mighty  river  of  the  North,  which 
empties  into  the  ocean  by  way  of  the  city  of  St.  Johns, 
New  Brunswick.  The  loss  from  this  memorable  con- 
flagration was  enormous,  not  alone  in  timber,  but  in 
household  property,  public  improvements,  etc. 


io8  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Now  see  what  a  wonderful  friend  to  man  nature  is. 
The  settlers  had  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  till  the 
land,  which  had  been  so  suddenly  and  disastrously 
cleared.  They  planted  the  easiest  thing  of  all  to 
raise  for  their  future  sustenance — potatoes  ;  and  lo !  the 
crops  were  enormous,  the  yield  per  acre  being  fabu- 
lously large,  and  best  of  all  the  quality  was  phenome- 
nally good.  When  cooked,  the  potatoes  were  of  firm 
texture,  white  and  mealy  inside,  and  even  now  they  are 
without  doubt  the  finest  potatoes  in  the  world.  What 
the  county  lost  by  the  destruction  of  its  timber  has 
been  regained  over  a  hundredfold  through  the  marvel- 
ous wealth  realized  from  its  rich  and  bountiful  potato 
fields. 

There  are  few  points  in  this  great  country  of  ours 
where  Aroostook  potatoes  are  not  known  and  used 
either  for  the  table  or  for  seeding. 

It  seems  that  the  ashes  remaining  upon  the  land  after 
the  burning  of  the  vast  forests  of  spruce,  pine,  fir, 
beech,  maple,  birch  and  chestnut  so  enriched  the  soil 
as  to  have  made  this  particular  county  the  world's  gar- 
den spot  for  the  growth  of  potatoes. 

We  crossed  Moosehead  Lake  on  October  13th — the 
next  morning  after  reaching  Greenville — on  afts  fine  a 
day  as  mortal  man  could  wish  for.  While  taking  din- 
ner at  Kineo  I  was  called  from  the  table  to  listen  to  a 
telephone  message  from  a  comrade  from  Philadelphia, 
who  had  missed  his  connections  and  was  going  to 


FOREST  FIRES  109 

charter  a  special  boat  to  take  him  across  Moosehead 
Lake,  a  distance  of  forty  miles,  to  Northeast  Carry. 

When  we  registered  at  the  Winnegarnock  House,  at 
the  "  carry,"  three  hours  after  this,  we  found  a  large 
crowd  of  hunters  there  to  spend  the  night,  who  were  to 
leave  the  following  morning  in  various  directions  to 
reach  their  "happy  hunting  grounds."  There  were 
some  ladies  in  the  party,  who  evidenced  considerable 
excitement  over  the  new  environment  in  which  they 
found  themselves.  There  were  also  many  guides,  team- 
sters, lumbermen  and  a  game  warden. 

My  comrade,  having  crossed  the  lake  safely  in  a 
small  power  boat,  joined  us  at  supper  time.  The  night 
turned  out  quite  cold.  We  were  given  the  upper  floor 
of  a  dainty  log  cottage,  where  a  royal  wood-fire  was 
burning  on  the  hearth  below  us,  and  we  here  changed 
our  apparel  for  the  toggery  we  should  need  for  the 
hard  work  of  the  next  few  days  in  getting  to  camp. 

An  early  start  down  the  Penobscot  Eiver  was  made 
the  next  morning  amid  the  usual  busy  scenes  of  load- 
ing canoes  and  batteaus.  When  the  canoes  were 
loaded  some  were  started  up  the  river  for  points  on 
Kussell  Brook  and  Kussell  Lake,  while  the  majority  of 
them  took  the  downward  trip.  One  party  was  going 
to  Lobster  Lake,  by  way  of  Lobster  Stream,  which  en- 
ters the  Penobscot  a  mile  and  a  half  below  the  "  carry," 
the  lake  being  seven  miles  from  the  river. 

A  lady  and  gentleman  from  Philadelphia  elected  to 


no  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

stop  before  the  Halfway  House  was  reached,  which  is 
ten  and  one-half  miles  from  the  "  carry."  Here  they 
spent  their  vacation,  and  they  happened  to  come  out 
again  and  to  cross  Moosehead  Lake  on  the  home  trip  in 
the  same  boat  that  I  crossed  in.  Another  party  was  to  go 
up  Pine  Stream.  This  is  the  stream  on  which  Thoreau, 
the  naturalist,  spent  some  time  on  when  he  visited  this 
region  in  1 857,  and  near  which  the  man  who  accompa- 
nied him  killed  a  cow  moose.  It  is  nineteen  miles  down 
the  river  from  the  "  carry." 

Other  parties  were  to  make  the  Allegash  Kiver  trip, 
which  takes  many  days  and  finally  lands  them  on  the 
broad  waters  of  the  St.  Johns  River.  This  Allegash 
trip  when  taken  from  the  Penobscot  waters  is  all  down- 
stream with  the  exception  of  about  ten  miles  when  you 
leave  Chesuncook  Lake.  Then  you  toil  up  a  narrow  tor- 
tuous stream  until  a  small  lake  is  reached  and  out  of  this 
you  come  to  the  famous  Mud  Pond  Carry  where  a  team 
of  horses  and  a  wagon  take  your  canoes  and  supplies 
into  Chamberlain  Lake.  After  that  you  enter  lake  after 
lake  until  the  Allegash  River  is  reached.  Then  you 
have  a  lively  run  until  your  canoe  glides  into  the  noble 
St.  Johns  River.  Two  parties  were  to  canoe  to  Har- 
rington Lake,  which  is  a  few  miles  below  Chesuncook 
Lake. 

As  for  ourselves,  we  made  the  Halfway  House  easily 
in  time  for  dinner.  My  companion,  who  was  making 
his  first  acquaintance  with  the  wild  and  beauteous 


Copyright,   1905,  by  C.  H.  Graves 

DISTANT  VIEW  OF  CAMP  ON  "  OUR  LAKE" 

See  page  114 


FOREST  FIRES  in 

Penobscot,  was  enraptured  with  the  varied  scenery  of 
the  first  part  of  the  journey.  Big,  genial  Joe  Smith,  the 
proprietor  of  the  Halfway  House,  met  us  with  a  hearty 
welcome,  and  gave  us  a  notable  dinner.  At  this  mod- 
est, unassuming  log-and-frame  house  the  meals  are  al- 
ways away  above  par,  the  butter  always  sweet,  the 
eggs  always  fresh  and  the  roast  chickens  always  ten- 
der. We,  of  course,  feasted  on  game  this  day,  and  af- 
ter an  hour's  rest  we  proceeded  upon  our  journey. 

The  water  was  extremely  low  from  the  long-continued 
drought.  The  canoes,  therefore,  had  to  find  their  way 
through  all  sorts  of  tiny  channels,  scraping  over  some 
rocks  and  dodging  others,  and  little  speed  was  made 
anywhere.  We  saw  no  game  whatever  on  the  down 
trip,  unless  a  few  black  ducks,  some  red  squirrels,  and  a 
host  of  muskrats  would  be  considered  game. 

We  entered  Chesuncook  Lake  at  four  o'clock,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  we  grounded  on  the  shore  in  front  of 
"  Anse  "  Smith's  historical  hostelry.  "  Anse  "  Smith 
kept  this  old  house  in  185T,  and  here  is  where  Thoreau 
stopped  for  a  while  on  his  trip  to  the  Maine  woods  in 
that  year. 

It  is  related  that  once  during  a  dark  night,  when  the 
rain  was  pouring  down  in  streaks  and  the  thunder  and 
lightning  were  something  fearful  to  hear  and  to  behold, 
a  man  and  his  guide  stopped  at  this  house  and  asked  for 
shelter  for  the  night.  The  sportsman  was  told  that  the 
house  was  packed  full  and  there  was  not  a  room  to  spare. 


112  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  man  was  very  ostentatious  in  his  manners  and 
said  that  he  had  plenty  of  money  to  pay  for  his  accom- 
modation, and  that  he  wanted  the  hotel  boss  to  know 
that  he  was  the  Republican  nominee  for  governor  of  the 
great  state  of  Pennsylvania.  That  didn't  impress  the  re- 
doubtable "  Anse  "  very  much,  but  he  finally  said  that 
the  man  and  his  guide  might  lie  down  on  the  floor,  that- 
being  the  best  he  could  do  for  them. 

"  The  Republican  nominee  for  governor  of  the  great 
state  of  Pennsylvania  "  was  so  much  offended  at  this 
offer  that  he  stalked  out  of  the  house  into  the  howling 
storm,  and  made  his  man  pitch  a  tent  and  build  a  fire 
on  the  shore  of  the  lake,  while  he  stood  in  the  down- 
pouring  rain,  fretting  and  fuming  over  the  blow  his 
dignity  had  received. 

We  arrived  in  time  to  get  some  supplies  from  "  Anse  " 
in  readiness  to  start  very  early  in  the  morning.  We  re- 
tired at  8  P.  M.,  and  at  4 : 30  the  next  day  we  were  up 
and  doing,  had  breakfast  at  5:30,  and  left  to  cross 
Chesuncook  Lake  at  6  A.  M.  Our  route  lay  along  the 
northern  shore  of  the  lake  until  a  large  cove  was  en- 
tered. We  paddled  through  this  cove,  and  then  entered 
a  pond,  where  4,000,000  feet  of  logs,  which  had  been 
cut  on  the  land  around  "  Our  Lake  "  the  previous  winter, 
were  stored,  awaiting  the  time  when  their  owner — the 
Great  Northern  Paper  and  Pulp  Company — would  or- 
der them  floated  down  to  the  huge  paper  mill  at  Milla- 
nocket  Lake. 


FOREST  FIRES  113 

After  picking  our  way  through  this  labyrinth  of  logs 
we  entered  the  mouth  of  the  stream  leading  down  from 
"  Our  Lake,"  a  distance  of  three  miles.  We  found  the 
stream  so  very  dry  that  there  was  not  water  enough  in 
it  to  float  an  empty  canoe.  This  meant,  of  course,  that 
all  the  stuff  had  to  be  "  packed"  up  to  the  dam  at  the 
foot  of  the  lake,  and  the  canoes  as  well. 

A  canoe  having  been  carried  up  some  days  previously 
and  hidden,  my  companion  and  I  carried  as  much  stuff 
as  we  could  stagger  under  up  to  the  dam,  and  then  we 
walked  through  a  dense  swamp,  following  a  thorough- 
fare until  the  lake  was  reached,  and,  finding  the  canoe, 
we  paddled  down  to  the  dam.  As  soon  as  the  men  ar- 
rived with  their  first  load  we  put  what  stuff  we  could 
store  in  our  canoe,  and  Ave  two  paddled  off  to  the 
camp. 

Oh,  how  delightfully  familiar  all  the  scenery  looked 
as  we  entered  that  lovely  sheet  of  water,  "  Our  Lake." 
There  were  the  big  lookout  rock,  the  two  coves  with 
sandy  shores,  which  in  their  time  have  furnished  a  feed- 
ing ground  and  a  playground  to  countless  deer  and 
moose,  without  counting  foxes,  minks,  ducks,  cranes, 
loons,  wild  geese  and  muskrats ;  the  familiar  lily-pads 
floating  on  top  of  the  water;  old  Katahdin — Maine's 
highest  mountain — towering  up  eighteen  miles  away  to 
the  eastward  ;  the  Sourdehunk  Mountains  to  the  north- 
east ;  and  the  two  great  hardwood  ridges  covered  with 
maple  and  beech,  moosewood  and  chestnut  trees,  now 


114  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

all  ablaze  with  the  brilliant  fall  colorings  in  every  shade 
of  yellow,  crimson,  and  russet. 

My  companion  gave  an  involuntary  cry  of  delight  as 
the  canoe  rounded  into  the  lake  and  the  beauteous  sight 
was  unfolded  to  our  enraptured  vision.  Our  canoe  soon 
arrived  at  the  wharf  landing.  Its  contents  were  carried 
into  the  cabin,  and  while  the  "  tenderfoot "  was  sent 
out  to  the  first  cove  with  his  rifle  to  sit  and  watch 
for  a  deer,  I  set  to  work  and  built  a  fire,  got  out  our 
provisions,  and  before  the  sun  had  set  in  the  west  a  hot 
supper  of  delicious  fried  bacon,  baked  potatoes,  pork  and 
beans,  congou  tea  and  baked  apples  was  ready  for  the 
weary  and  hard-worked  guides  when  they  arrived. 

Need  I  say  that  we  enjoyed  the  meal ;  that  mirth  and 
story  went  quickly  around ;  that  we  were  all  thankful 
that  the  long-looked-for  "  haven  of  rest "  had  at  last 
been  reached ;  that  when  we  finally  went  to  our  beds  of 
spruce  boughs  we  were  wrapped  in  contentment  first 
and  in  slumber  so  soon  after  that  we  could  scarce  count 
the  minutes  until  oblivion  overcame  us  ? 

Ah,  yes,  the  goal  which  our  eyes  had  been  eagerly 
looking  forward  to  for  months  had  been  at  last  achieved, 
and  from  now  on  until  the  vacation  was  over  it  was  to 
be  a  season  of  daily  strenuous  activity  and  of  nightly 
slumber  and  healthful  rest. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  NIGHT  IN  THE  OPEN 

"  The  tyranny  of  the  open  night's  too  rough  for  nature  to  endure." 

— KING  LEAR. 

Two  and  a  half  miles  by  the  canoe  and  then  six 
miles  as  measured  by  the  pedometer,  in  all  eight  and 
a  half  miles  away,  is  a  dam  at  the  head  waters  of  "  Our 
Lake."  My  camp  companion  and  his  guide  went  up 
there  one  day  and  came  back  with  stories  of  big  deer 
tracks,  and  plenty  of  them ;  of  having  each  fired  twice 
at  a  big  buck  thirty  yards  away  and  missed,  of  fresh 
moose  tracks  and  of  firs  that  one  moose  bull  had  rubbed 
his  antlers  on  in  order  to  peel  off  the  velvet.  So,  on 
account  of  these  stories,  the  next  morning  we  all  went 
up  the  stream  again ;  the  other  hunter  and  his  guide 
only  to  journey  as  far  as  the  place  where  they  missed 
the  buck,  while  my  guide  and  I  went  to  the  dam,  he 
carrying  a  sleeping  bag  and  a  couple  of  rubber  blankets, 
a  dipper,  frying-pan  and  teakettle.  He  was  to  return 
for  some  important  work  to  be  done  early  the  next 
morning.  I  was  to  hunt  during  the  balance  of  the  day 
and  the  next  forenoon,  and  to  lie  out  at  night  beside 
the  dam. 

Albert,  the  guide,  had  started  upon  his  return  trip 
but  a  few  minutes  when  I  discovered  that  my  match 
safe  was  empty.  I  ran  after  him  and  blew  a  whistle  to 


ii6  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDK 

attract  his  attention.  He  returned,  and  a  search  in  his 
trousers  produced  only  two  matches.  With  these  I  must 
perforce  be  content,  and  some  way  or  other  must  start 
three  fires  with  them  for  three  separate  meals. 

Some  wood  was  got  ready  for  the  night,  green  boughs 
picked  for  a  bed,  and  then  a  journey  was  taken  down 
the  stream  to  the  mouth  of  an  old  hauling  road,  which 
is  dearer  to  me  than  any  road  in  the  world,  for 

"  When  to  the  sessions  of  sweet,  silent  thought 
I  summon  up  remembrance  of  things  past," 

I  remember  that  it  was  on  this  road  that  I  killed  my 
first  caribou  bull,  and  a  veritable  beauty  he  was,  and 
the  year  following  I  killed  still  another  one. 

On  the  north  side  of  a  dry  bog  through  which  this 
road  runs  I  spent  at  one  time  six  of  the  pleasantest, 
most  instructive  and  most  restful  days  of  my  life,  for  I 
sat  from  9  A.  M.  until  evening  at  the  foot  of  a  juniper 
tree  within  a  couple  of  feet  of  a  caribou  trail.  As  the 
sun  was  warm  and  not  a  particle  of  air  stirring  and  a 
band  of  caribou  was  ranging  up  and  down  during  the 
daylight,  I  could  watch  and  study  these  strange  ani- 
mals to  advantage.  Here  I  read  such  books  as  I  had 
with  me,  and  I  wrote  as  long  as  my  stock  of  paper  lasted. 

A  little  brook  crosses  the  road  beyond  the  bog,  and 
across  that  brook  is  a  cluster  of  old  lumber  camps  now 
nearly  all  leveled  with  the  ground. 

It  was  in  one  of  these  old  camps  that  I  had  slept  one 


A  NIGHT  IN  THE  OPEN  117 

night  and  awoke  in  the  morning  to  find  my  wallet, 
with  $135  in  it,  gone. 

After  a  search  of  the  bog — made  twice — and  the 
roadway  leading  to  it,  some  little  tracks  in  a  soft  piece 
of  ground  near  a  big  log  outside  of  the  camp  gave  me 
a  clew.  The  tracks  were  those  of  a  porcupine,  and  I 
mentally  said  one  of  those  fellows  with  the  dreaded 
quills  is  the  one  who  has  stolen  the  wallet.  An  ex- 
amination of  the  floor  showed  where  the  wallet  could 
have  been  dragged  down  between  the  dressed  logs,  of 
which  the  floor  was  made.  A  wooden  crowbar  was 
cut,  and  with  this  a  log  was  pried  up,  disclosing  a 
deep  hole,  but  no  wallet.  The  next  log  to  it  was  then 
raised,  and  lighting  a  piece  of  old  newspaper  and 
throwing  it  into  the  hole  so  as  to  see  better,  I  dis- 
covered the  wallet  in  the  hole,  or  nest,  made  by  the 
porcupine. 

That  incident  was  ten  years  ago,  and  I  still  own  and 
treasure  the  same  wallet. 

It  was  on  this  road  that  my  youngest  son  shot  a 
famously  big  deer  when  he  was  but  a  schoolboy,  and  I 
was  prouder  of  his  success,  I  am  sure,  than  he  was. 

Time  has  dealt  kindly  with  the  road.  It  is,  of  course, 
somewhat  grown  up  with  young  firs,  and  many  blow 
downs  make  it  a  harder  task  to  travel  on  it  now  than  in 
the  days  that  are  gone.  The  caribou  have  all  migrated 
and  have  left  the  state,  perhaps  forever.  The  moose 
do  not  seem  to  use  the  road  in  going  to  and  from  the 


n 8  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

water  as  they  used  to  do,  and  I  saw  nothing  of  game 
but  the  white  flag  of  a  startled  deer  as  it  went  bound- 
ing through  the  woods  at  my  approach. 

Now  the  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west,  and  a  re- 
turn to  the  dam  was  imperative,  so  a  rather  hurried 
walk  was  taken  to  the  stream,  and  then  by  stepping 
from  stone  to  stone  on  account  of  the  low  water,  the 
mile  or  so  to  the  resting  place  for  the  night  was 
easily  made. 

I  had  anticipated  catching  some  fish  for  supper  in  a 
pool  where,  in  other  days,  we  always  could  catch 
enough  for  our  needs,  but,  alas  !  they  too  were  gone, 
and  neither  with  fly  nor  bait  could  one  be  raised. 
Three  slices  of  bacon  to  fry  the  fish  with,  some 
bread,  and  a  box  of  bouillon  capsules  was  all  I  had  to 
last  three  meals,  and  without  the  expected  fish  these 
would  make  a  slim  ration. 

Getting  a  good  big  fire  going,  I  ate  one  of  the  pieces 
of  bacon,  drank  a  cup  of  bouillon,  made  from  a  capsule, 
spread  out  the  sleeping  bag  and  like  the  weary  lover 
who  wrote : 

* '  Weary  with  toil  I  haste  me  to  my  bed, 
The  dear  repose  for  limbs  with  travel  tired," 

I  was  soon  in  the  land  of  nod.  But  not  for  long, 
however. 

A  deer  was  whistling  and  stamping  in  the  alders 
across  the  brook.  The  fire  was  burning  down  and  the 


A  NIGHT  IN  THE  OPEN  119 

night  was   becoming  very  cold  and  more  logs  were 
heaped  on. 

From  away  off  in  the  distance,  perhaps  across  the 
ridge,  on  another  watershed,  the  plaintive  call  of  a  cow 
moose  was  heard.  A  splash  in  the  water  below  the 
dam  told  of  a  muskrat  or  a  mink,  more  probably  the 
latter,  as  the  locality  was  hardly  the  one  to  attract  a 
muskrat. 

Down  the  stream  an  owl  hooted  occasionally,  and 
once  a  piercing  scream  of  some  small  animal  in  distress 
was  heard.  Imagination  suggested  that  a  fox  had 
caught  a  rabbit  or  maybe  an  owl  had  caught  one.  But 
it  was  all  guesswork. 

The  stars  shone  beautifully  bright  and  the  noise  of 
the  falling  water  was  most  soothing,  changing  its  tone 
and  volume  every  minute  apparently ;  it  made  a  fit- 
ting lullaby  for  the  tired  body  and  brain,  and  to  its 
cadence  I  once  more  fell  asleep. 

A  branch  broke  to  the  back  of  me.  It  was  a  deer 
stealing  through  the  thicket.  He  could  be  plainly 
heard,  but  not  seen. "  Again  the  fire  got  low  and  once 
more  it  was  necessary  to  pile  on  more  wood.  The  night 
was  getting  yet  colder,  and  every  article  of  clothing 
which  I  had  with  me  was  now  necessary  to  keep  me  at 
all  comfortable. 

At  last  sleep — with  many  such  interruptions — became 
an  impossibility,  and  toward  morning  I  gave  up  the  at- 
tempt. Hardly  had  the  first  streak  of  daylight  flashed 


120  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

its  welcome  light  from  the  east  before  the  birds  com- 
menced to  stir. 

The  sound  of  a  slow  flapping  of  some  big  bird  struck 
the  ear,  and  as  it  came  nearer  it  proved  to  be  a  large 
full-grown  blue  heron,  which,  not  noticing  me,  let  his 
legs  drop  from  their  horizontal  position  when  in  flight, 
and  coming  down  before  the  wind,  settled  within  a 
few  feet  of  me.  What  an  alert  bird  he  was !  How  he 
turned  his  head  this  way  and  that  way,  seeing  if  all  was 
safe  for  him,  before  he  commenced  to  look  for  his 
breakfast. 

Watching  him  intently,  I  lay  perfectly  still.  He 
seemed  to  be  sensible  that  his  coast  was  not  quite  clear ; 
whether  through  instinct  or  the  power  of  scent  which 
this  bird  may  possess,  I  do  not  know.  But  his  eye 
finally  discovered  my  lair,  and  what  a  start  he  made 
out  of  the  supposed  danger  zone ! 

When  I  was  a  boy  of  thirteen,  an  uncle  loaned  me  an 
old  single-barrel  muzzle-loading  shotgun.  I  went  with 
it  on  a  Sunday-school  picnic  to  a  lake  resort  twenty-five 
miles  away.  As  soon  as  the  picnic  grounds  were 
reached,  I  was  off  with  my  precious  gun  to  a  stream 
called  Kettle  Creek,  three  miles  away,  and  in  rounding 
a  curve  in  the  stream  I  caught  just  a  glimpse  of  a  blue 
heron's  head  peeking  up  from  behind  some  bushes. 
Aiming  below  his  head,  at  where  I  supposed  his  body 
to  be,  I  was  elated  beyond  belief  at  my  rare  good 
fortune  in  seeing  him  fall  to  the  ground,  apparently  dead. 


A  NIGHT  IN  THE  OPEN  121 

I  did  not  know  the  trick  this  bird  has  when  wounded 
of  trying  to  pluck  the  hunter's  eye  out  if  the  hunter 
stoops  and  tries  to  pick  him  up,  but  I  did  know 
enough  to  catch  him  by  his  long  legs,  rather  than  by 
his  equally  long  neck.  Swinging  him  over  my  shoulder, 
I  proudly  started  for  the  Sunday-school  gathering,  to 
show  my  big  trophy. 

It  Avas  necessary  to  cross  a  rail  fence,  which  I  es- 
sayed to  do,  with  the  gun  in  the  right  hand  and  the 
heron  slung  over  my  left  shoulder,  with  his  head  hang- 
ing down. 

He  was  not  dead ;  indeed,  not  by  a  long  sight,  for  as 
I  was  climbing  over  the  top  rail  he  grabbed  the  seat  of 
my  trousers  and  also  quite  a  portion  of  my  nether 
anatomy  with  his  sharp  bill. 

Giving  a  yell  of  pain,  I  dropped  the  gun  and  fell  in 
a  heap  on  the  far  side  of  the  fence,  and  that  fall  broke 
the  heron's  underhold.  That  hold  was  worse  to  me  than 
any  collar  and  elbow  or  Greco-Roman  hold  I  have  ever 
known  since.  It  was,  however,  not  much  of  a  trick  to 
take  a  fence  rail  and  with  it  break  the  bird's  neck, 
and  then  when  actually,  positively  sure  that  he  was 
really  dead,  I  picked  him  up  once  more,  and  for  much 
of  the  balance  of  the  day  I  strutted  around  with  him 
on  my  shoulder,  a  proud  and  happy  boy. 

My  father  had  the  royal  bird  stuffed  and  placed  in  a 
glass  case,  where  it  remained  among  the  household 
goods  for  over  twoscore  years. 


122  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Now,  let  us  return  to  the  dam,  after  this  digression. 
The  noisy  red  squirrel  commenced  to  forage  for  his 
breakfast  after  the  heron  had  disappeared.  Another 
deer  whisked  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  brook,  and 
at  last  the  sun  showed  his  glorious  face  over  the  tree- 
tops  in  the  eastern  sky. 

The  night  had  departed,  a  new  day  had  begun — the 
birds  and  the  animals  and  the  insects  were  each  and 
every  one  either  hunting  for  their  breakfast  or  busy  eat- 
ing it,  excepting  the  night  prowlers,  like  the  owl  and  the 
fox,  and  they  were  making  ready  to  go  to  their  repose. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  how  many  animals 
had  passed  perhaps  a  restless  night  because  of  their 
getting  a  breath  of  air  tainted  by  the  scent  of  a  hu- 
man being;  how  many  owls  had  looked  down  upon 
me  with  curious  eyes,  wondering  what  manner  of 
creature  this  stranger  could  be ;  how  many  red  squirrels 
had  pried  into  my  secret  retreat,  and  how  many  foxes 
had  passed  me  by,  in  a  hurry  to  get  out  of  possible 
harm. 

As  for  me,  I  broke  the  ice  which  had  covered  the 
brook  from  shore  to  shore  during  the  night,  had  a 
morning  wash,  boiled  another  bouillon  capsule,  ate 
another  slice  of  bacon,  shouldered  my  rifle  and  was  off 
for  another  day's  hunt.  "  The  night  at  the  dam  "  be- 
came a  thing  of  the  past,  because  a  new  day  was  upon 
me,  with  its  work  to  be  performed  and  its  pleasures  to 
be  enjoyed.  My  two  matches  had  been  enough  for  me 


A  NIGHT  IN  THE  OPEN  123 

because  the  fire  was  kept  burning  all  night ;  and  as  for 
lunch,  I  still  had  a  slice  of  bacon,  some  bouillon  cap- 
sules, and  a  bit  of  bread,  which,  with  plenty  of  water 
to  wash  it  down,  was  all-sufficient. 


CHAPTEE  XY 
A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE 

* '  Oft  expectation  fails,  and  most  oft  there 
Where  most  it  promises  :  and  oft  it  hits 
Where  hope  is  coldest,  and  despair  most  sits." 

ALL'S  WELL. 

IT  was  a  most  peculiar  hunting  season.  The  air, 
having  been  loaded  with  dense  smoke  for  many  days 
and  weeks,  was  dry  and  resonant.  A  breaking  twig 
sounded  almost  like  the  cracking  of  a  sapling.  The 
laugh  of  the  loon  reverberated  from  ridge  to  ridge,  and 
his  "  ha-ha's  "  echoed  and  reechoed  for  a  long  time. 

The  noisy  barking  of  the  red  squirrels  never  sounded 
louder,  and  on  our  approach  they  told  every  living 
thing  in  the  forest,  "  Look  out,  look  out,  a  man  is 
coming." 

The  hammering  of  the  hollow  trees  by  the  big  red- 
headed woodpeckers  sounded  like  blows  struck  by  a 
wooden  mallet. 

I  had  ordered  the  roof  to  be  removed  from  a  camp 
on  the  farther  side  of  the  lake,  and  so  as  to  be  out 
of  reach  of  the  noise,  I  took  a  road  that  led  back 
through  a  great  swamp  on  our  side  of  the  water. 
Two  miles  or  more  into  the  swamp  was  traveled,  until 
a  likely  place  for  watching  for  game  was  found,  and 
here  I  sat  down  to  watch  and  to  listen. 

Maybe  half  an  hour  passed,  and  then  I  heard  a  crash 


A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE  125 

which  instantly  brought  me  to  my  feet.  It  was  fol- 
lowed by  another  in  quick  succession.  With  rifle 
raised  I  looked  for  the  cause  of  the  disturbance.  My 
first  thought  was  that  a  pair  of  bull  moose  were  fight- 
ing, but  later  on  the  truth  dawned  on  me  that  it  was 
the  noise  of  removing  the  felt  from  the  roof  of  the 
camp  which  I  had  heard.  This  was  hard  to  believe, 
and  yet  it  was  really  the  case. 

On  an  afternoon  when  I  was  alone  at  the  camp,  the 
guide  and  cook  having  been  sent  some  miles  away  on 
an  errand,  I  heard  a  couple  of  men  talking — as  it 
seemed  to  me — in  a  small  cove,  about  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  camp.  Taking  rifle  and  field-glass  to 
see  who  they  were — for  we  very  seldom  have  visitors 
up  our  way,  and  hence  to  hear  strange  voices  was  sur- 
prising— I  went  to  the  cove. 

A  large  flock  of  hooded  merganser  ducks  took  wing 
at  my  approach,  and  flew  away,  but  no  men  were  to 
be  seen,  and  yet  the  voices  could  be  plainly  heard, 
sounding  as  if  the  men  were  far  back  in  the  woods  and 
coming  down  to  the  water.  With  the  field-glasses  the 
shores  of  the  lake  were  scanned,  but  no  sign  of  any 
human  being  could  be  seen,  and  the  voices  seemed  to 
be  getting  nearer  and  yet  nearer,  and  finally  to  be  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  water. 

At  last  I  noticed  a  canoe  rounding  out  of  the 
thoroughfare  at  the  foot  of  the  lake  and  following 
the  farther  shore.  It  contained  the  two  men  who  had 


126  WITH  GUN  AND  GtJlDE 

left  in  the  morning,  and  they  were  now  returning. 
Their  voices  had  at  first  reached  me  apparently  from 
the  dam  at  the  foot  of  the  thoroughfare,  which  is 
easily  two  miles  from  where  I  was  sitting. 

The  reader  can  readily  believe  that  this  atmospheric 
condition  not  only  made  hunting  difficult,  but  gave  an 
uncanny  feeling  to  the  hunter  himself.  What  effect  it 
had  upon  the  sensitive  deer  and  the  secluded  moose 
can  well  be  imagined.  Yery  different  was  this  season 
from  the  one  some  years  ago  when  four  deer  in  one 
day  was  the  record  for  two  of  us. 

No  wonder  that  we  saw  but  the  tails  of  vanishing 
deer  when  we  expected  to  see  their  heads.  I  saw 
hundreds  of  these  wild  inhabitants  of  the  forest,  but 
not  a  solitary  buck  did  I  see  that  I  could  be  sure  of. 
Only  the  tails,  only  the  tails,  and  this  was  repeated 
over  and  over  again,  and  day  after  day. 

Only  near  to  running  water  was  there  any  chance 
of  seeing  them  long  enough  to  make  out  their  sex 
surely,  and  beside  running  water  one  buck  was  killed, 
and  another  was  fired  at  and  missed,  but  with  neither 
of  these  did  I  have  anything  to  do.  This  much  for 
the  deer. 

Now  for  the  moose.  The  numerous  roads  leading 
to  the  lake,  to  the  thoroughfares  and  to  the  dead- 
waters,  showed  plenty  of  old  moose  tracks,  but  not  a 
single  fresh  one.  Day  after  day  I  scanned  the  roads 
on  each  side  of  the  lake ;  but,  save  for  one  track  made 


THE  MARTINDALE  CAMP  IN  MAINE 


A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE  127 

by  a  small  cow  moose,  there  was  nothing  else  to  be 
found.  Hence  we  wrote  home  that  the  moose  had 
gone. 

The  allotted  time  for  my  companion  to  stay  having 
expired,  he  left  us  on  a  Thursday,  and  the  last  words 
he  "  hollered "  to  me  were,  "  When  you  get  back 
home  call  me  up  on  the  'phone,  and  just  say,  '  I've  got 
him.' " 

Some  few  days  afterward,  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  my  guide  and  I  paddled  down  the  lake  to 
the  dam  at  its  foot.  We  left  the  canoe  there,  and  then 
walked  down  the  stream  a  couple  of  miles  to  a  road 
leading  away  at  right  angles  to  the  water.  Up  this 
road  we  traveled  until  we  came  to  a  set  of  lumber 
camps,  where  he  had  seen  a  big  buck  the  day  before. 

No  signs  of  him  or  of  any  other  deer  being  visible, 
we  planned  that  I  should  take  a  tote-road  along  the 
western  side  of  the  ridge  to  another  set  of  old  camps 
five  miles  away.  The  guide  was  to  return  by  the  way 
we  came,  take  the  canoe  again,  and  paddle  up  the  lake 
and  the  stream  to  a  road  that  would  lead  to  this  last 
set  of  camps,  and  there  he  was  to  await  my  arrival, 
which  we  fixed  could  be  easily  done  by  11 : 30  A.  M. 

We  had  lunch  with  us  and  I  had  on  an  extra  coat,  a 
sweater,  a  vest,  and  a  bathing  vest,  but  on  account  of 
the  heat,  before  the  first  set  of  camps  was  in  view  all 
these  articles  of  clothing  had  been  discarded  and 
hidden  in  a  plainly  marked  hollow  tree. 


128  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

I  was  now  clothed  only  in  a  shirt  and  trousers  and 
underwear,  a  cap  and  shoes  and  stockings.  This  tote- 
road  I  had  frequently  used  from  the  other  end  in  years 
gone  by,  but  had  never  been  on  it  from  the  southern 
end.  Hence  I  was  particular  in  asking  about  its  gen- 
eral course,  and  if  there  was  any  chance  of  my  stray- 
ing away  from  it.  This  the  guide  assured  me  was 
utterly  impossible. 

So  we  parted,  he  telling  me  that  the  entrance  to  the 
road  was  on  the  other  side  of  a  brook  near  which  we 
were  standing. 

I  crossed  the  brook,  went  up  the  ridge  a  short  dis- 
tance, and  found  two  roads,  one  leading  to  the  left  and 
the  other  to  the  right.  Not  knowing  which  I  was  to 
take,  I  blew  the  whistle,  calling  the  guide  back,  and 
asked  which  road  I  was  to  use.  He  shouted  back  to 
take  the  right-hand  one. 

This  I  found  to  be  a  fine  wide  road,  but  it  did  not 
seem  to  me  to  go  in  the  direction  that  I  thought  it 
should.  I  noticed  also  that  the  blazed  spots  on  the 
trees  were  only  two,  where  a  tote-road  should  have 
three  spots,  two  spots  being  the  sign  manual  for  a 
hauling,  logging  road. 

However,  I  jogged  along  contented  and  happy. 
The  day  was  fine,  but  quite  hot.  I  had  abundance  of 
time  in  which  to  cover  the  five  miles  before  11 :30,  as 
I  had  left  the  camps  at  8 :  30.  I  carried  no  load  ex- 
cepting the  rifle,  walking  easily  for  an  hour  by  the 


A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE  129 

watch,  and  having  attained  the  top  of  the  ridge,  I  sat 
down  and  rested  and  listened  for  fifteen  minutes,  but 
heard  nothing. 

Striking  out  again  I  was  surprised  to  find  myself 
going  down  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  ridge.  This  I 
knew  would  take  me  to  a  different  watershed,  so  my 
steps  were  retraced  until  the  resting  place  again  came 
in  sight. 

Another  road  was  taken  and  this  seemed  to  be  the 
genuine  tote-road.  It  was  wide,  the  bottom  was  cov- 
ered with  grass  and  it  was  a  pleasant  road  to  walk  in. 
There  were,  however,  two  blazed  spots  on  the  trees 
where  there  should  have  been  three.  I  walked  over  a 
mile  upon  it,  and  it  abruptly  came  to  an  end. 

Another  retreat  to  the  resting  place  was  now  neces- 
sary. A  road  bearing  more  to  the  left  I  took  next. 
This  ran  but  a  half  mile  or  more  and  that  was  the  end 
of  it. 

I  now  knew  that  I  was  lost,  that  I  must  have  been 
put  on  the  wrong  road,  or  strayed-  from  the  right  road 
in  some  way. 

Back  again  I  went  to  the  log  where  the  trouble  had 
commenced  and  there  was  but  one  more  road  in  sight 
and  that  was  a  road  whose  entrance  was  almost  hidden 
by  young  firs  that  grew  upon  each  side  and  met  at 
the  top,  making  of  it  a  sort  of  arboreal  avenue. 

Entering  this  pathway  the  first  thing  that  I  saw  was 
an  old  logging  yard  with  the  logs  still  lying  on  the 


130  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ground  badly  rotted  and  decayed.  Beyond  this  yard 
was  a  small  ravine,  and  beyond  that  another  logging 
yard. 

I  decided  that  the  ravine  should  be  followed  until  it 
came  to  water,  and  then  I  thought  I  could  easily  find 
out  where  I  was.  Following  this  ravine  a  few  minutes, 
I  found  a  little  brook,  which  persistently  seemed  to 
disappear  into  some  subterranean  channel  in  about 
every  fifty  feet  of  distance  traveled. 

This  was  very  puzzling,  because  the  ravine  gradually 
widened  out  to  the  width  of  quite  a  respectable  valley, 
and  it  was  a  hard  matter  to  keep  track  of  the  brook's 
many  disappearances. 

At  one  place  the  stream  came  to  the  surface  and  for 
a  hundred  feet  it  widened  to  such  a  width  that  I  could 
not  jump  across  it.  Green  grass,  lush  and  lusty,  grew 
on  each  side  of  it.  Beyond  the  grass  came  a  fringe  of 
alders,  and  beyond  the  alders  many  young  maple  trees, 
and  behold !  there  were  some  moose  tracks,  fresh  as 
they  could  be ! 

Here  a  moose  had  stepped  over  a  log  after  wading 
through  the  brook  and  the  mud  from  its  feet  was  yet 
slipping  down  from  the  log.  The  water  was  muddy, 
too,  showing  where  the  moose  had  waded  through  it. 
And  did  I  not  see  how  the  top  branches  were  eaten  off 
a  small  maple  tree  ? 

I  wasn't  through  making  a  mental  inventory  of  the 
signs  which  plainly  showed  that  here  at  last  were  sure 


A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE  131 

evidences  that  I  had  stumbled  upon  a  real  sanctuary  of 
the  moose,  when  crash !  crash !  went  a  big  animal 
through  the  alders. 

The  rifle  was  quickly  brought  to  the  shoulder,  and 
as  quickly  lowered ;  it  was  but  a  cow  moose  and  a 
small  one  at  that.  No  doubt  it  was  the  one  whose 
tracks  we  had  seen  once  before.  She  ran  fifty  yards 
or  so,  then  she  turned  around  and  watched  me  with 
keen  attention,  but  she  was  of  no  interest  to  me  and 
again  I  started  down  the  puzzling  brook. 

But  mark  now,  another  series  of  rushes  startled  me, 
and  another  big  animal  was  tearing  like  mad  through 
the  alders.  Once  more  the  rifle  was  raised,  and  this 
time  my  eyes  looked  upon  the  largest  bull  moose  I  had 
ever  seen.  His  antlers  showed  just  for  a  second  above 
the  waving  alders.  He  was  running  away  in  an  al- 
most direct  line  from  me,  and  it  was  a  rather  nice  shot 
to  get  a  bullet  in  back  of  his  shoulder. 

The  trigger  was  touched,  and  "  laws-a-mighty  ! "  as  a 
colored  guide  used  to  say,  with  the  report  of  the  rifle 
the  great  animal  dropped  as  if  hit  with  a  sledge-ham- 
mer. I  pumped  another  cartridge  into  the  gun  to  be 
sure  of  being  ready  if  one  more  cartridge  was  needed, 
but  it  wasn't.  He  had  fallen  on  a  sloping  piece  of 
ground  and  was  quite  dead  when  I  reached  him.  I 
viewed  him  over  and  examined  his  head  and  huge  feet. 

I  said  to  myself,  "  There  is  the  veritable  moose  that 
year  after  year  for  a  decade  back  the  lumbermen  and 


132  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

trappers  have  talked  about,  calling  him  the  '  big  moose 
of  Cuxabexis  Lake.' r  Hundreds  of  times  in  the  years 
that  were  gone  had  I  followed  his  tracks  without  even 
getting  a  sight  of  him.  He  was  now  old  and  as  gray 
as  a  rat.  The  taxidermist,  who  afterward  mounted  his 
head,  said  upon  examination  of  it  that  he  was  at  least 
twenty  years  old. 

It  was  exactly  eleven  o'clock  when  I  had  finished 
looking  the  moose  over.  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that 
I  was  still  lost ;  you  may  be  sure  I  didn't  forget  it. 

The  first  thing  to  do  was  to  endeavor  to  turn  him 
upon  his  back,  so  that  he  could  be  opened  and  the  en- 
trails removed,  but  struggle  as  I  would  I  couldn't 
move  him  in  any  way.  I  cut  down  a  yellow  birch 
sapling  and  tried  the  stern  of  that,  as  a  crowbar  or 
lever,  with  a  small  log  as  a  fulcrum,  but  it  was  of  no 
use.  He  could  not  be  budged. 

However,  by  lying  prone  on  the  ground,  I  managed 
to  get  my  hunting-knife  into  the  carcass  pretty  far  up. 
Then  by  cutting  down  carefully  I  partly  removed  the 
intestines  so  that  the  gases  would  have  a  free  escape, 
until  I  could  find  my  way  out  and  return  with  the  men 
to  help  in  dressing  him. 

I  had  a  small  hatchet  on  my  belt  and  with  this  I 
commenced  "  spotting  "  my  way  out,  of  course  follow- 
ing the  brook.  For  a  half  mile  it  was  easy  work. 
Then  the  brook  again  went  down  out  of  sight  and  I 
came  to  an  open  place  which  was  nigh  to  being  im- 


A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE  133 

passable  from  a  dense  growth  of  little  stunted  firs, 
alders  and  cedars. 

Going  around  the  right-hand  edge  of  this  jungle  and 
"  spotting  "  in  among  the  big  trees,  I  made  a  discovery 
that  astonished  me  very  much.  This  open  cleared 
space  was  an  old  and  now  abandoned  beaver  meadow. 
The  beavers  had  not  used  it  for  a  score  of  years  at 
least,  and  the  beaver  dam  at  the  bottom  was,  of  course, 
badly  broken  down. 

Walking  over  this  dam  I  was  once  more  astonished 
to  find  another  beaver  meadow  and  beyond  the  dam 
for  that  one,  still  another  meadow,  making  a  series  of 
three  meadows  with  their  three  dams  that  these  won- 
derful animals  had  laboriously  constructed. 

It  is  just  possible  that  the  subterranean  exploits  of 
the  little  brook  were  really  caused  by  these  busy  work- 
ers in  tunneling  under  its  bed  for  some  reason  or  other. 
I  cannot  account  for  the  phenomena  upon  any  other 
hypothesis. 

Below  the  last  of  the  beaver  dams  the  stream  broad- 
ened out  considerably,  and  I  took  a  road  which  seemed 
to  follow  it  in  parallel  lines.  Whether  it  does  or  not 
I'll  not  know  until  another  season's  exploration  ex- 
plains the  mystery  of  finding  myself  at  last  at  a 
quarter  past  two  in  the  afternoon  at  Guxabexis  Cove, 
six  miles  at  least  from  the  foot  of  "  Our  Lake." 

Chesuncook  Lake,  into  which  this  cove  drains,  is, 
during1  the  winter  and  spring,  raised  by  means  of  a 


134  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

huge  dam  at  its  bottom  thirty-two  feet  high,  and  this 
immense  volume  of  water  is  forced  in  places  away  into 
the  interior,  along  the  avenues  made  by  the  various 
streams,  the  water  killing  millions  of  feet  of  standing 
timber.  For  when  the  water  is  drawn  off  by  opening 
the  gates  of  the  dam  an  ocean  of  mud  and  many 
stranded  logs  are  left  along  the  banks  wherever  the 
water  has  flowed. 

I  made  my  exit  upon  a  stretch  of  such  land.  It  was 
then  a  struggle  to  keep  from  getting  mired.  The  best 
way  I  found  was  to  look  for  stumps,  roots  and  pieces 
of  bark  and  to  jump  from  one  to  the  other  of  these 
friendly  helps.  It  was  laborious  and  heating  work. 

When  this  stage  of  the  journey  was  passed  I  came 
into  Moose  Pond,  a  sheet  of  water  perhaps  three-quar- 
ters of  a  mile  in  diameter.  The  shores  were  lined  with 
four  million  feet  of  logs  awaiting  a  spring  freshet  to  be 
floated  down  to  the  big  lake  below. 

The  logs  being  speedily  crossed,  the  road  now  lay  up 
the  stream  to  the  dam  at  the  foot  of  "  Our  Lake."  A 
mile  from  Moose  Pond,  the  high  landing  was  reached 
from  which  we  had  started  that  morning  to  go  to  the 
lumber  camps. 

During  the  previous  spring  some  log  drivers  had 
erected  a  wide  shed  under  which  a  table  was  built 
where  the  men  ate  their  meals.  It  had  no  sides,  it  was 
only  a  roof  sustained  by  four  posts. 

Here  I  found  lying  in  the  grass  from  the  past  spring 


A  SMOKY  ATMOSPHERE  135 

time  an  old  mackinac  coat,  now  in  rags  and  tatters, 
and  an  old  red  sweater  in  like  condition.  These  I  took 
with  me,  as  it  was  now  becoming  cold,  and  I  might 
have  to  sleep  out  all  night.  They  would  come  in  very 
handy,  as  it  will  be  remembered  that  I  had  parted  with 
all  superfluous  clothing,  and  the  lunch  into  the  bargain, 
before  leaving  the  old  lumber  camps. 

A  glass  bottle  with  about  an  ounce  of  honey  at  the 
bottom  I  also  found,  and  this  was  taken  along,  too.  I 
got  to  the  dam  at  4 : 05  p.  M.  and  darkness  was  already 
settling  down.  I  fired  two  cartridges  and  waited  a 
few  minutes,  but  received  no  reply.  I  then  put  on  the 
old  coat  and  sweater,  built  a  fire  and  heated  a  tin  dip- 
perful  of  water.  This  latter  I  did  twice  and  drank  the 
two  pints  of  hot  water  and  ate  the  ounce  of  honey,  which 
somewhat  satisfied  the  fierce  cravings  of  hunger,  as  I 
had  eaten  nothing  since  five  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Next  I  gathered  a  pile  of  wood  to  keep  up  a  fire 
during  the  night  if  it  should  be  necessary.  But  hark  ! 
listen  to  that !  A  shot,  and  yet  another,  from  the  di- 
rection of  the  camp  above.  That  meant  that  the  guide, 
who  I  was  sure  would  be  following  back  and  forward  on 
that  old  tote-road  looking  for  me,  had  returned  to  camp. 

I  fired  my  last  cartridge  in  response,  and  in  reply 
a  single  shot  was  fired  from  the  camp — two  miles  away. 
A  half  hour  more  and  a  canoe  rounded  a  bend  in  the 
thoroughfare  and  Albert  cried  out  through  the  dark- 
ness, "  Thank  God,  you're  safe  !  " 


CHAPTEE  XYI 
LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP 

"O,  while  you  live,  tell  truth  and  shame  the  devil." 

HENRY  IV. 

IN  the  last  chapter  was  a  candid  confession  of 
getting  lost  on  my  own  camping  grounds. 

It  is  now  incumbent  upon  me  to  tell  how  I  came  to 
be  lost.  It's  a  happy  thing  for  a  human  being,  when 
things  go  awry,  to  be  able  to  throw  the  blame  from 
one's  own  shoulders  to  those  of  some  one  else. 

In  this  particular  case  Albert,  the  guide,  placed  me 
on  the  wrong  road.  I  started  wrong  and  kept  going 
wrong  all  the  time,  until  the  realization  that  I  was 
really  lost  took  hold  upon  me.  Then  I  decided  that  it 
would  be  much  easier  and  quicker  to  follow  the  mysti- 
fying brook,  than  to  retrace  my  steps  to  the  starting 
point  at  the  lumber  camps. 

The  mistake  made  was  in  believing  that  the  brook 
would  land  me  on  Cuxabexis  stream,  about  a  mile  and 
a  half  from  the  dam,  when  in  reality  I  turned  up  four 
and  a  half  miles  further  away,  which  made  nine  miles 
extra  distance  to  walk. 

The  reader  must  not  think  that  to  get  lost  in  the 
Maine  wilderness  is  any  unusual  occurrence.  Seldom 
does  a  hunting  season  pass  without  the  writer's  getting 


LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP        137 

lost  at  least  once  and  sometimes  of  tener.  Guides  them- 
selves, who-  are  popularly  supposed  never  to  lose  their 
way,  often  become  bewildered  and  then  it  is  ludicrous 
to  hear  their  profuse  explanation  of  how  it  all  happened. 

Last  August  a  gentleman  with  his  wife  and  aunt 
spent  the  whole  month  in  camp  on  "  Our  Lake."  One 
of  their  guides  was  a  man  who  lives  in  that  vicinity  only 
some  six  miles  away.  He  has  lumbered  on  the  tract, 
and,  therefore,  ought  to  have  known  every  acre  of  the 
ground  in  the  whole  thirty -six  square  miles. 

He  used  to  indulge  at  times  in  very  strong  language 
in  the  years  that  are  past ;  but,  by  reason  of  his  minis- 
trations as  guide  to  these  two  ladies  for  three  or  more 
seasons,  he  had  become  very  careful  of  the  words 
used  in  their  presence. 

One  day  a  trip  to  the  upper  dam  was  planned,  and  it 
fell  to  Abe's  lot  to  pilot  the  ladies  up  there  and  back. 

The  "  Auntie  "  is  over  threescore  and  ten,  while  the 
niece  is  many,  many  years  younger.  Nothing  un- 
toward happened  until  the  ladies  noticed  that  Abe 
was  thrashing  through  a  fringe  of  alders  and  asking 
them  to  follow.  They  knew  full  well  that  as  their  road 
led  up  a  ridge  they  should  not  be  pushing  through  al- 
ders, which  always  grow  near  to  water. 

At  once  it  dawned  upon  them  that  he  was  lost. 
"  Are  we  lost,  Abe  ?  "  they  said  in  unison,  and  breath- 
lessly they  awaited  his  answer. 

"  Oh,  no,  ladies ;  we're  not  lost !     Why,  I  could  find 


138  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

my  way  up  to  the  dam  blindfolded.  Lost  ?  ISTo  in- 
deed ;  we'll  soon  be  there.  I'm  just  taking  you  by  a 
short  cut." 

They  noted,  however,  that  he  was  steering  them  in 
all  directions  of  the  compass,  that  he  was  nervous,  and 
wanted  to  keep  a  considerable  distance  ahead  of  them. 
He  had  a  habit  of  talking  to  himself,  and  as  his  perplex- 
ities increased  he  talked  louder  and  yet  louder  and 
finally  the  ladies  heard  him  say,  "  Where  in  hell  am  I, 
anyway  ?  " 

"  What's  that  you  are  saying,  Abe  ?  "  asked  the  aunt. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  ma'am  ;  I  have  a  tooth  that's  hurting 
me,  and  I  hardly  know  what  I'm  saying." 

A  few  more  turnings  and  then  clear  and  distinct  came 
the  words,  u  Blamed  if  I'm  not  lost !  " 

"  Abe,  do  you  say  we  are  lost  ?  " 

"Oh,  no,  not  me.  I  couldn't  get  lost  if  I  tried. 
Now,  don't  you  go  and  get  nervous.  I'm  all  right,  you 
can  bet." 

He  now  changed  his  course  and  worked  his  way  down 
to  the  stream,  along  whose  shores  he  led  them  by  a 
tortuous  path  through  high  grass,  and  at  certain  places 
they  had  to  cross  and  reicross  the  brook,  thus  getting 
more  or  less  of  a  wetting. 

The  trip  to  the  dam  was  finally  achieved.  Their  pe- 
dometers showed  that  he  had  made  them  cover  fourteen 
miles  in  place  of  twelve,  as  formerly  registered  when 
they  were  not  lost. 


LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP        139 

Fourteen  years  ago  I  had  a  French  Canadian  for  a 
guide  in  a  district  where  he  had  been  trapping  and  lum- 
bering for  years.  Early  one  morning  I  got  a  shot,  head 
on,  at  a  fine  bull  moose.  The  bullet  entered  his  breast 
a  little  to  the  left  of  the  centre,  and  pierced  the  lungs. 
He  disappeared  like  magic  and  made  for  the  ridges. 

It  was  easy  following  him  by  the  profuse  trail  of  blood 
which  he  left,  and  my  judgment  was  that  we  ought  to 
sit  down  and  give  him  an  hour's  rest,  so  that  when  the 
trail  was  taken  up  again  he  would  be  so  stiff  that  it 
would  be  no  trouble  finally  to  get  him. 

Tom,  however,  was  sure  that  we'd  find  him  down  and 
out  at  any  minute,  and  insisted  upon  following  him  at« 
once.  The  end,  however,  was  not  what  we  had  ex- 
pected, for  the  trail  led  to  a  wet,  mossy  bog,  and,  as  the 
tracks  were  closed  up  by  the  spongy  moss  as  soon  as 
they  were  made,  we  could  not  follow  them  at  all.  Tom 
figured  out  that  we  had  driven  him  eighteen  miles,  but 
whether  he  was  right  or  not  I  have  no  means  of 
telling. 

When  we  had  reluctantly  to  abandon  the  pursuit, 
Tom  led  off  quite  bravely  for  the  camp,  or  where  he 
supposed  it  was.  It  was  now  becoming  late.  In  the 
eagerness  of  the  chase  we  had  partaken  of  no  food  since 
the  early  morning,  and  as  the  shot  had  been  fired  at 
eight  o'clock  and  we  had  since  been  continuously  on  the 
move,  \ve  were  naturally  "  tuckered  out."  Of  clothing 
we  had  but  little,  as  we  had  left  all  superfluous  gar- 


I4o  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ments  in  our  canoe  when  we  stepped  out  upon  the  bog 
where  I  shot  the  moose. 

Tom  led  the  way  first  through  an  alder  swamp,  then 
over  a  ridge,  and  then  we  plunged  into  a  cedar  swamp. 
Now  it  was  dark  and  we  could  go  no  farther.  The 
night  became  very  cold.  We  were  not  near  any  water. 
Both  of  us  had  been  perspiring  freely  and  the  necessity 
for  a  big  hot  fire  was  urgent. 

A  fire  was  kindled.  My  hip  rubber  boots  were  pulled 
off,  and  upon  these  I  lay  as  close  to  the  fire  as  possible, 
changing  my  position  every  few  minutes  so  as  to  keep 
first  one  side  warm  and  then  the  other.  In  the  mean- 
time, I  kept  Tom  at  the  job  of  chopping  wood,  while  I 
saw  to  it  that  the  fire  was  burning  all  night  long. 

And  how  long  that  night  seemed !  I'll  never  forget 
it — no  water  to  drink  and  no  covering,  with  the  keen 
frost  settling  down  and  glistening  like  diamonds  on  the 
trees,  logs  and  leaves.  I  told  Tom  stories,  asked  him 
questions,  and  got  him  to  talk  likewise — anything  to 
help  pass  the  night  away. 

I  was  fearful  of  falling  asleep,  because  if  the  fire  went 
down  I  might  become  chilled  through  and  awake  with 
a  cold  sufficient  to  bring  on  pneumonia. 

The  stars  never  shone  brighter  than  on  that  sharp 
and  frosty  night.  By  fixing  the  eyesight  first  on  one 
star,  and  then  upon  another,  I  could  note  their  steady 
and  majestic  journey  through  the  great  unknown  can- 
opy overhead. 


Copyright,  1903,  by  Keystone  View  Co. 

WELL  STALKED  AT  LAST 


See  page  144 


LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP        141 

We  talked  of  trapping,  of  instances  of  lost  men  in  the 
woods,  of  the  religions  of  the  world — in  fact  of  every- 
thing I  could  think  of  to  chain  Tom's  interest  and  my 
own  to  the  necessity  of  keeping  up  and  keeping  near 
the  fire. 

What  a  welcome  sight  it  was  when  the  first  reddish 
tinge  illumined  the  eastern  sky  !  Before  daylight  had 
fully  arrived  we  found  some  ice  which  had  formed 
during  the  night  beneath  a  cedar  root.  This  I  melted 
in  a  tin  dipper,  and  put  into  it  a  bouillon  capsule.  The 
water  was  boiled,  the  contents  of  the  capsule  cooked, 
and  we  had  our  first  nourishment  in  twenty-four  hours. 

A  tin  dipperful  to  each,  and  then  we  were  off  in 
search  of  some  road  which  might  lead  us  out  of  the 
swamp. 

The  first  one  we  found  led  us  down  to  a  great 
meadow,  through  which  a  winding  stream  runs,  at 
one  place  spreading  out  into  a  small  lake.  Then  we 
got  our  bearings.  We  were  six  miles  from  camp. 
We  descried  two  men  in  a  canoe  who  were  taking 
home  a  deer  they  had  shot  the  previous  night. 

A  piece  of  silver  induced  one  of  them  to  paddle  us 
as  far  up  the  stream  as  it  was  necessary  for  us  to  go 
to  strike  a  direct  route  to  the  camp,  where  we  landed, 
after  a  walk  of  two  more  miles,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon. 

Tom  would  not  then,  and,  in  fact,  never  did,  admit 
that  we  were  lost. 


142  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

We  learned  long  afterward  that  our  lost  moose  was 
found  the  next  day  by  a  votary  of  the  goddess  Diana, 
a  young  woman  then  in  her  teens,  but  now  a  mature 
matron  with  a  growing  family  of  children.  In  her 
palatial  dining-room  the  head  of  our  royal  quarry  oc- 
cupies the  post  of  honor. 

In  August  of  last  season  a  young  Indian  guide, 
eighteen  years  of  age,  got  lost  on  a  Tuesday  morning 
on  the  next  watershed  to  ours,  and  he  failed  to  work 
his  way  out  until  the  Friday  night  following.  He  had 
lived  in  the  meantime  on  wild  raspberries  and  roots 
during  his  wanderings,  for  having  neither  gun  nor 
matches  he  could  do  nothing  else  but  pick  and  eat 
berries  as  he  trudged  wearily  along. 

In  the  season  of  1906,  a  party  of  seven  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  headed  by  a  lawyer  from  Philadelphia,  left 
camp  at  daylight  on  a  short  trip,  expecting  in  a  couple 
of  hours  to  reach  a  small  lake,  where  they  planned 
to  spend  the  day  fishing.  In  some  way  they  deviated 
from  the  road  and  became  completely  lost. 

Like  the  children  of  Israel  in  the  desert,  they  wan- 
dered to  and  fro.  Lunch  time  came,  but  no  knowledge 
of  where  they  were  had  been  obtained.  They  walked 
mile  after  mile  until  supper  time  came.  A  very  slight 
meal  was  then  doled  out  to  the  now  weary  pilgrims 
as  the  shades  of  night  were  settling  down,  but  still  no 
one  could  even  guess  where  they  were. 

The  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  three  tired-out  women 


LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP        143 

and  four  weary  men  was  stopped  at  eleven  o'clock  at 
night  by  the  sound  of  a  shot,  more  than  a  mile  away. 
This  was  joyfully  replied  to,  and  shot  after  shot  fol- 
lowed until  they  found  a  lumber  camp,  the  occupants 
of  which  had  been  firing  to  bring  in  one  of  their  lost 
comrades. 

Here  the  travel- worn  seven  were  served  with  a  hot 
supper  and  then  they  were  put  on  the  right  road.  The 
distance  was  more  than  six  miles  to  their  own  camp, 
which  they  entered  at  two  o'clock  the  next  morning. 
They  had  covered  more  than  twenty-five  miles  in  floun- 
dering through  bogs  and  over  ridges,  and  what  they 
thought  and  what  they  said  would  surely  fill  a  book. 

On  the  morning  following  the  adventure  with  the 
big  moose  of  Cuxabexis  Lake  we  were  up  long  before 
daylight.  We  partook  of  a  hurried  breakfast  and  then 
with  empty  burlap  coffee  sacks,  axes,  ropes  and  sharp 
knives,  we  were  off  in  search  of  the  mysterious  disap- 
pearing brook  and  the  secluded  sanctuary  where  lay 
the  big  bull  moose. 

My  "  spots  "  when  found  were  easily  followed.  When 
the  scene  of  the  killing  was  reached,  we  heard  the  low 
call  of  a  cow  moose,  and  one  single  answer  of  a  bull, 
but  the  animals  had  vanished,  they  having  probably 
heard  us  as  we  wended  our  way  over  logs  and  across 
the  stones  of  the  oft-hidden  brook. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  the  cow's  calls  during  the 
night  had  attracted  to  her  side  another  lover  to  take 


144  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

the  place  of  the  one  she  had  just  lost,  the  biggest  of 
them  all  ? 

It  took  the  united  strength  of  the  three  of  us,  with 
the  aid  of  a  lever,  to  turn  the  "  big  fellow  "  upon  his 
back.  Then  we  dressed  him ;  removed  the  hide,  un- 
jointed  the  head  and  feet,  cut  out  the  hind  quarters  and 
the  fore  quarters  and  washed  them  off  thoroughly  with 
water  from  the  brook. 

We  hung  up  the  hind  quarters  between  two  trees 
and  built  a  smudge  fire  under  them  and  gave  them 
a  smoking  of  two  hours.  Then  they  were  sewed  up 
separately  in  burlap,  ready  for  shipping. 

Before  this  work  was  finished,  Albert  carried  the 
feet  to  the  lumber  camps  by  a  road  which  led  directly 
there  from  where  we  were  at  work,  and  this  road 
turned  out  to  be  the  identical  road  upon  which  he 
had  started  me  the  previous  morning,  and  in  following 
which  I  had  passed,  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes  from 
the  time  that  I  left  him,  not  twenty  feet  away  from 
where  I  killed  the  moose. 

The  two  men  now  carried  out  to  the  stream  the 
hind  quarters,  the  head  and  the  hide,  leaving  the  fore 
quarters  to  be  taken  away  later,  for  these  were  for  the 
guides  themselves. 

The  reader  may  wonder  what  has  been  finally  done 
with  the  various  parts  of  the  animal.  The  head,  of 
course,  has  been  mounted.  The  hide  has  been  tanned 
and  lined  and  made  into  a  monster  rug.  The  four  feet 


LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP        145 

have  been  made  into  inkstands,  the  covers  being  made 
of  silver,  while  the  inkwells  are  of  glass.  The  skin 
from  the  shanks  of  the  hind  legs  has  been  made  into 
a  pair  of  moose-shank  shoes,  a  splendid  protection  for 
the  feet  in  snowy  or  slushy  weather.  The  splints 
which  control  the  action  of  the  dew  claws  have  been 
mounted  into  paper  cutters. 

The  hind  quarters  were  shipped  to  Philadelphia  and 
put  in  cold  storage.  These  furnished  the  principal  dish 
at  one  or  more  banquets  the  following  winter.  Some 
of  the  meat  of  the  fore  quarters  was  smoked  and  the 
balance  salted  down  for  the  use  of  the  two  "  good  men 
and  true  "  who  were  my  guides  for  the  season. 

Albert,  when  he  found  that  I  was  not  at  the  Logan 
Camps  at  the  appointed  time  the  day  we  parted  from 
each  other  at  the  lumber  camp,  walked  the  whole  dis- 
tance of  five  miles  back  again  over  the  old  tote-road. 
When  he  failed  to  find  me  he  fired  several  shots.  One 
of  them  I  heard,  and  answered  with  a  shot  from  the 
first  beaver  meadow,  but  he  heard  it  not.  I  also  blew 
my  whistle  loud  and  long,  but  without  response. 

He  then  returned  to  the  Logan  Camps  and  there  he 
ate  his  lunch  and  mine  also,  and  once  more  journeyed 
across  and  back  the  five-mile  distance,  making  some- 
thing like  a  twenty-mile  tramp  to  and  from  the  two 
lumber  camps. 

Then  it  was  becoming  dark  and  he  went  down  to 
his  canoe  and  paddled  to  the  camp. 


146  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

There  he  was  advised  of  my  two  signal  shots  and 
I've  already  told  of  the  result. 

It  was  amusing  to  me  to  note  the  impatient  manner 
in  which  the  guides  listened  to  the  tale  of  my  wander- 
ings, of  my  hunger,  of  the  finding  and  use  of  the  old 
mackinac  coat  and  time-worn  sweater,  of  the  nearly 
empty  honey  bottle,  of  the  gathering  of  wood  for  an 
all-night  fire,  of  the  drinking  of  two  dipperfuls  of  hot 
water ;  for  all  of  this  they  cared  not  a  whit. 

But  of  the  moose  they  would  talk  over  and  over 
again.  They  would  say,  "  I'm  glad  you  did  get  lost," 
and  Albert,  "  I'm  glad  I  put  you  on  the  wrong  road." 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  supposing  I  had  had  to  stay  by  the 
little  brook  all  night  without  a  cartridge  left  with 
which  to  fire  a  signal  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you'd  'a'  bin  all  right :  you'd  'a'  had  a  fire 
and  drank  lots  of  water  and  you'd  'a'  found  your  way 
out  in  the  mornin'.  We're  both  glad  you  got  the 
moose  and  we  don't  care  a  darn  that  you  got  lost." 

Therefore,  to  them  "nothing  pleaseth,  but  rare 
accidents." 

The  killing  of  the  moose  was  the  last  incident  of 
importance  on  this  memorable  trip,  and  shortly  after- 
ward we  packed  up  our  belongings,  broke  camp,  and 
were  soon  on  our  way  back  to  civilization.  But 
the  health  and  vigor  that  we  acquired  in  the  sweet- 
smelling  woods  was  a  reservoir  of  strength  on  which  to 
draw  through  a  long  winter,  full  of  hard  work  and 


LOST  IN  A  CEDAR  SWAMP        147 

business  perplexities.  It  is,  after  all,  the  added 
strength,  the  increased  vigor,  rather  than  the  actual 
enjoyment  of  the  experience  itself— though  that  can 
scarcely  be  overestimated — that  makes  an  outing  or  a 
vacation  really  worth  while. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE" 

"Love,  therefore,  and  tongue-tied  simplicity  in  least,  speak  moat." 

— MIDSUMMER  NIGHT'S  DREAM. 

IN  1834,  Joe  Sebattis,  his  wife — Nakomis,  his  two 
grown  sons — Frank  and  Pete,  and  his  lovely  daughter — 
Anita,  lived  in  a  comfortable  log  hut  on  "  The  Point " 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Tobique  River,  just  above  where 
this  impetuous  mountain  stream  rushes  into  the  upper 
St.  tfohns.  Joe  and  his  family  belonged  to  the  Maliset 
tribe  of  Indians,  the  aboriginal  proprietors  of  both  the 
Tobique  and  St.  Johns  systems  of  waters,  with  their 
many  thousands  of  acres  of  rich  wooded  lands,  that 
fairly  teemed  with  wild  and  noble  game.  This  tribe 
subsisted  mainly  upon  the  fishing  and  hunting  to  be 
found  in  the  Tobique  valley,  but  many  of  the  most 
venturesome  of  the  tribe  sometimes  crossed  to  the  other 
side  of  the  St.  Johns  and  took  long  hunts,  either  up  the 
Aroostook  River  three  miles  above,  or  up  the  rugged 
Allegash,  which  enters  the  St.  Johns  one  hundred  and 
five  miles  northeast  of  the  mouth  of  the  Tobique.  The 
squaws  made  baskets,  mats,  moccasins  and  snow-shoes, 
which  found  a  market  either  among  the  passing 
lumbermen  or  farther  down  the  river  in  the  cities  of 
Fredericton  or  St.  Johns.  The  tribe  boasted  of  having 

t 

* 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     149 

among  its  members  the  best  guides  to  be  found  in  the 
province  of  New  Brunswick ;  Sebattis  and  his  two  sons 
were  by  general  consent  acknowledged  to  be  the  most 
skilful  of  all  the  braves.  The  head  of  this  wigwam 
had  learned  to  read  and  write,  just  a  little,  through  the 
kindly  aid  of  Pere  Lamorieux,  the  priest,  who  ministered 
to  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  few  white  settlers  and  the 
Indians  as  well.  Sebattis  was,  in  consequence,  respected 
by  the  rest  of  the  natives,  and  he  felt  his  importance  in- 
crease with  the  birth  of  each  new  moon. 

Particularly  in  the  treatment  of  his  daughter,  the  idol 
of  his  heart,  and  in  the  dreams  in  which  he  indulged 
concerning  her  future  married  state,  did  this  feeling  of 
bigness  assert  itself.  Anita  was  just  sixteen  years  and 
three  months  old  when  he  announced  to  her  that  she 
must  refrain  from  receiving  advances  from  any  Maliset 
brave,  as  he  was  determined  that  she  should  marry  some 
well-to-do  pale-face  who  could  keep  her  in  luxurious 
comfort,  give  her  a  white  man's  education  and  so  enable 
her  to  mingle  with  people  of  intelligence  far  above  that 
of  any  of  the  members  of  his  tribe.  Anita's  brothers 
shared  this  feeling  with  their  father.  They  doted  upon 
her,  not  alone  for  her  beauty,  but  for  her  native  good- 
ness of  character,  her  nimble  wit  and  the  noble  manner 
in  which  she  carried  herself,  for  she  acted  almost  like  a 
princess  among  the  other  girls  of  the  tribe,  showing  at 
once  a  ready  leadership  in  all  of  their  youthful  amuse- 
ments. During  the  winter,  Sebattis  had  noted  with 


150  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ill-concealed  disfavor  the  marked  attention  that  several 
of  the  young  bucks  delighted  to  pay  to  her.  So  he 
resolved  that  with  the  going  out  of  the  ice  he  would 
take  his  family,  his  tents,  his  pirogue,  his  canoes,  cer- 
tain cooking  utensils  and  a  goodly  store  of  "  fleur " 
(flour),  beans,  salt  pork,  tea,  tobacco  and  bacon,  with 
fishing-tackle,  rifles,  powder  and  ball,  and  spend  the 
summer  on  Lake  Mctau,  the  fountainhead  of  the 
Tobique  Kiver.  Here  he  and  his  family  would  catch 
trout,  smoke  and  dry  them,  hunt  bears  in  the  rich 
blueberry  barrens,  tan  their  moose  and  bear  hides  and 
render  their  fat,  kill  a  moose,  now  and  then,  for  fresh 
meat,  and  thus  keep  his  daughter  far  away  from  her 
ardent  wooers.  Therefore,  when  the  river  was  clear 
he  started  with  two  canoes  loaded  up  to  their  full 
carrying  capacity,  and  the  pirogue  filled  as  full  as  it 
would  hold,  and  in  this  manner  the  family  made  their 
migration  to  the  far-off  haven  of  security. 

The  trip  was  a  hard  one,  there  being  but  little  "  dead- 
water  "  in  the  stream ;  in  fact,  possibly  four-fifths 
of  the  ninety-seven  miles  of  river  in  which  they  had  to 
push  their  way  up  against  a  strong  current  was  "  quick- 
water."  Their  paddles  were,  therefore,  of  little  use.  It 
was  "  poling  "  nearly  all  of  the  way,  and  that,  too,  over 
a  bad  rocky  bottom,  where  the  poles  slipped  incessantly. 
The  two  sons  poled  the  pirogue,  the  father  one  of  the 
canoes  in  which  his  wife  was  seated,  Anita  managing 
the  remaining  canoe  skilfully  and  with  consummate 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     151 

ease.  In  five  days  and  a  half  they  reached  Lake  Nictau, 
a  lake  of  very  cold  water,  having  a  temperature  of  forty- 
five  degrees  in  summer,  and  which  poured  its  clear 
crystal  waters  directly  into  the  Tobique  River.  Upon 
their  arrival  they  were  well-nigh  devoured  by  that 
worst  of  all  plagues,  the  fierce  black  fly.  They  built 
smudge  fires,  covered  their  faces  with  a  tarry,  greasy 
compound,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  They  were  forcibly 
driven  to  a  little  rocky  islet  near  the  centre  of  the  lake. 
This  isle  was  formed  from  a  huge  mass  of  rock  which 
in  some  distant  age  had  slid  from  the  side  of  Bald  Top 
Mountain,  which  rears  its  crown,  a  short  distance 
away,  to  an  elevation  of  2,240  feet.  Four  or  five 
spruce  trees  had  obtained  a  lodgment  on  the  island 
rock,  and  some  plebeian  undergrowth  encircled  its 
edges.  There  was  room  enough  for  four  tents,  a  din- 
ing table  and  a  cache,  for  their  provisions,  and  here  was 
the  only  place  in  the  whole  territory,  excepting  on  the 
top  of  Bald  Mountain,  where  the  troublesome  black 
flies  were  not  present. 

In  the  early  fall  preceding  the  Sebattis  migration 
an  old  Penobscot  Indian,  who  had  known  Joe  as  a  boy, 
made  a  visit  to  the  Maliset  settlement,  spending  three 
weeks  there,  and  he  had  become  very  intimate 
with  the  family.  Before  the  streams  were  frozen  up, 
Nicholas,  for  this  was  the  name  the  Penobscot  went 
by,  made  the  long,  long  journey  by  canoe  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Tobique  to  Mount  Kineo  on  Moosehead 


ip  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Lake.  The  region  in  and  around  Kineo  had  been  for 
nearly  a  hundred  years  the  happy  hunting  ground  of 
many  tribes  of  Indians.  The  fishing  there  is  good, 
and  the  speckled  trout  caught  there  are  immense  in 
size  and  of  splendid  flavor.  Moose,  deer,  caribou  and 
smaller  animals  were  to  be  found  within  two  or  three 
days'  journey  from  Kineo,  and  in  summer  and  the 
early  fall  the  men  could  always  obtain  lucrative  em- 
ployment as  guides  for  parties  desiring  to  go  up  or 
down  the  Penobscot,  up  the  Dead  River,  the  Moose 
River  or  to  some  of  the  myriads  of  small  lakes  which 
make  this  part  of  the  United  States  a  nation's  recrea- 
tion ground.  The  guides  frequently  waged  friendly 
contests  in  canoe  racing,  in  shooting  with  the  bow  and 
arrow,  or  in  the  use  of  the  old  "  flint  lock."  The 
leader  in  all  this  manly  rivalry  was  a  young  brave  of 
twenty-two,  tall  and  lithe,  with  long  black  hair,  hand- 
some face  and  piercing  black  eyes;  he,  indeed,  was 
first  in  everything,  and  his  mentor  and  trainer  during 
his  boyhood  days  was  old  Charley  Nicholas,  the  Penob- 
scot Indian,  who  idolized  him  and  who  would  have 
willingly  given  up  his  life  for  him.  Frank  Talmunt 
was  the  hero's  name.  His  father  having  been  killed 
in  a  fight  with  an  Algonquin  Indian  when  he  was 
very  young  and  his  mother  forcibly  abducted  in  a 
tribal  raid  when  he  was  ten  years  old,  Nicholas  was 
both  father  and  mother  to  the  growing  lad,  and  well 
was  he  repaid  for  his  care.  Frank  was  obedient  and 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     153 

affectionate  to  his  foster-parent,  deeply  grateful  for  his 
watchful  solicitude,  and  no  son,  white  or  red,  could 
have  shown  more  respect  for  his  natural  father  than 
Frank  Talmunt  did  for  Charley  Nicholas. 

We  need  not  wonder,  then,  that  it  did  not  require 
many  moons  for  the  stories  which  the  old  man  brought 
back  from  the  mouth  of  the  Tobique,  stories  of  the 
beauty  and  goodness  of  Anita  Sebattis,  of  the  stern 
resolve  of  her  father  and  brothers  that  she  should  and 
must  be  married  to  a  white  man,  of  the  contemplated 
migration  to  Nictau  Lake,  etc.,  to  set  Frank's  heart  in 
a  whirl  of  excitement.  As  the  long  winter  months 
rolled  tediously  by,  he  spent  the  days  in  trapping  and 
the  nights  in  learning  to  read  and  write,  because  he 
was  told  that  Anita  could  read  fairly  well  and  even 
write  a  letter,  having  been  taught  the  rudiments  by 
Pere  Lamorieux,  the  French  Canadian  priest.  Many 
were  the  "talks"  Nicholas  and  he  had  about  Anita 
and  how  to  woo  her,  how  to  get  her  away,  if  she  was 
willing,  from  her  secluded  home.  It  was  finally  de- 
cided that,  as  soon  as  the  ice  moved  out  of  the  Penob- 
scot,  the  foster-father  should  carry  a  letter  written  on 
birch  bark  from  Frank  to  Anita.  He  was  also  to  tell 
her  of  Frank's  great  love  for  her  and  that  before  the 
frosts  of  early  September  she  should  watch  for  a  signal 
which  he  would  display,  at  break  of  day,  from  the 
table  rock  on  the  lake  side  of  Bald  Top  Mountain. 
Then,  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  she  was  to  take  her 


154  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

canoe  and  meet  him  in  Mud  Lake,  a  small  lake  sepa- 
rated from  Nictau  by  a  thoroughfare,  a  couple  of 
hundred  yards  in  length,  and  fringed  with  a  dense 
growth  of  overhanging  bushes  ;  here  their  canoes 
might  easily  be  hidden  from  view.  And  so  it  happened 
that  almost  simultaneously,  as  Nicholas  started  from 
the  northeast  carry  down  the  Penobscot,  Sebattis 
turned  his  canoe's  bow  up  the  Tobique.  As,  however, 
nearly  three  hundred  and  eighty  miles  separated  them, 
it  was  some  weeks  before  the  weary  messenger,  carry- 
ing the  tokens  of  love  and  the  story  of  the  lover, 
reached  the  island  rock.  Sebattis  and  his  family 
greeted  him  warmly  and  made  him  royally  welcome. 

When  time  and  circumstance  permitted,  old  Nicholas 
speedily  unfolded  his  tale  to  Anita,  giving  her  not  only 
the  precious  birch-bark  letter,  but  presenting  her  with 
a  necklace  of  pearls  that  a  countess  might  envy,  which 
Frank  had  made  himself  from  gems  which  he  had 
searched  for  and  found  in  fresh-water  mussels.  More- 
over, at  every  fitting  opportunity  when  he  and  Anita 
were  together,  the  old  man,  with  burning  native  elo- 
quence, dilated  upon  the  feats  of  strength  and  valor,  of 
skill  and  endurance,  that  his  son  and  idol  had  per- 
formed; of  his  manly  beauty,  his  honesty,  his  noble 
character  and  his  high  aspirations,  so  that,  although 
Anita  had  never  seen  her  lover,  she  had  in  her  heart 
his  picture  as  distinct  as  if  photographed  by  the  finest 
camera  in  the  land.  The  rude  and  untutored  ambas- 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     155 

sador  told  the  old,  old  story  so  faithfully  and  so  well 
that  Anita  was  soon  wrapt  in  love's  day-dreams  as 
firmly  as  her  distant  lover.  However,  time  was  pre- 
cious, the  messenger  must  return  with  all  speed  to  the 
Penobscot  waters  to  tell  Romeo  how  impatiently  his 
Juliet  awaited  him,  so  that  a  meeting  of  the  lovers 
could  be  consummated  before  September  waxed  old. 
Anita  implicitly  trusted  the  envoy  and  promised  to 
listen  to  his  admonitions  of  profound  secrecy  and  cir- 
cumspection. She  sent  by  him  a  letter  written  upon 
birch  bark  and  a  coral  ring  as  a  token  which  her 
Eomeo  was  to  wear  upon  the  third  finger  of  his  right 
hand  when  they  met.  The  return  journey  of  Nicholas 
down  the  Tobique  was  soon  accomplished,  and  then 
the  hard  paddling  and  poling  up  the  St.  Johns  was  un- 
dertaken in  right  good  earnest. 

In  the  meantime,  Frank  couldn't  contain  his  impa- 
tience. He  "  imagined  many  vain  things,"  he  fretted 
and  fumed  until  his  restlessness  broke  all  bounds,  and 
he  determined  to  start  ahead,  trusting  to  luck  or  to  fate 
that  he  might  meet  his  foster-father  on  the  watery  path 
somewhere.  Frank  took  good  care  to  paddle  only  by 
day  and  to  rest  at  night  some  place,  where,  if  any  canoe 
was  to  come  along  from  the  other  direction,  he  would 
be  sure  to  know  who  its  occupant  was,  because  the 
canoe  would  have  to  pass  very  close  to  where  he  would 
tie  up.  On  the  last  day  of  July,  about  an  hour  after 
daybreak,  Nicholas  was  paddling  through  Long  Lake, 


156  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

which  lies  half-way  between  the  Penobscot  and  St. 
Johns  on  the  Allegash  system  of  waters,  when  he 
noticed  a  canoe  lying  in  the  mouth  of  the  Chemquassa- 
bamticook  River.  The  occupant  of  the  canoe  was 
catching  trout  in  a  famous  deep  pool  on  the  left-hand 
entrance  to  that  river.  It  was  indeed  Nicholas,  and  a 
shout  of  recognition  went  up  from  him  and  Frank  al- 
most in  unison. 

Now,  if  ever  a  maiden  listened  with  rapture  to  a 
lover's  tale,  Frank  listened  to  the  story  his  faithful 
father  brought  back  to  him.  Anita's  letter  was  read 
and  fondled  o'er  and  o'er,  her  ring  was  kissed  raptur- 
ously, and  the  old  voyager  was  made  to  narrate  all  the 
incidents  that  had  occurred  in  that  Rocky  Eden  in 
Nictau  Lake  so  many  times  that  the  sun  had  swung 
half-way  round  his  course  before  they  thought  of  cook- 
ing the  mess  of  brook  trout  which  was  lying  in  the 
bottom  of  Frank  Talmunt's  canoe.  After  their  dinner 
of  broiled  fish  and  roast  partridge,  the  balance  of  the 
day  and  most  of  the  night  were  spent  in  discussing 
plans  for  the  delicate  yet  grave  work  ahead  of  them. 
The  old  Penobscot,  having  been  a  trapper  and  hunter 
for  nearly  half  a  century  and  knowing  all  about  the 
route  to  be  traversed  by  his  protege,  gave  him  minute 
directions  and  sage  advice  to  guide  him  on  his  fateful 
journey,  and  then  as  - 

"Night's  candles  were  burnt  out,  and  jocund  day 
Stood  tiptoe  on  the  misty  mountain  tops," 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     157 

they  parted,  one  of  them  to  win  or  lose  a  bride,  the 
other  to  prepare  a  nest  for  the  couple  to  live  in  if  the 
quest  should  prove  successful. 

We  may  be  sure  that  Anita's  heart  and  mind  were 
tortured  by  anxiety  as  to  when  and  how  her  lover 
would  arrive.  The  table  rock  which  stood  out  bold 
and  sharp  from  the  crest  of  Bald  Top  Mountain  was 
easily  seen  from  the  island,  and  there  were  two  little 
firs  growing  out  from  crevices  in  the  rock,  about  ten 
feet  apart.  The  signal  agreed  upon  between  Nicholas 
and  Anita  was  the  placing  of  a  dead  fir  lengthwise  on 
the  top  branches  of  these  green  firs,  so  that  from  the 
island  it  would  look  like  a  gate — the  gate  to  earthly 
bliss.  Anita  seemed  never  to  be  able  to  keep  her  eyes 
from  the  rock  and  its  green  firs  ;  if  she  was  not  actually 
gazing  at  them,  they  were  portrayed  before  her  mind, 
and  as  the  signal  was  to  be  shown  only  at  daybreak, 
she  unconsciously  echoed  the  advice  of  the  nurse  to 
Juliet,  "  The  day  is  broke,  be  wary ;  look  about ; "  and 
look  about  she  did.  Upon  a  day  late  in  August,  at 
daybreak,  she  cast  her  eyes  up  to  the  table  rock  and, 
"  Oh  !  miracle  of  miracles ! "  as  sure  as  the  great  orb  of 
day  was  then  rising  over  the  eastern  ridges,  so  sure  was 
she  that  her  lover  was  there,  and  even  now,  perhaps, 
watching  her ;  for,  lo  !  the  signal  was  set,  the  dead  fir 
was  really  resting  crosswise  on  the  top  branches  of  the 
two  green  firs.  What  should  she  do  ?  Cry  out  she 
dared  not,  and  to  make  any  waving  signal  might  at- 


158  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

tract  attention  from  some  of  the  family.  She  quickly 
decided  to  take  her  canoe  and  paddle  out  on  the  lake 
on  the  opposite  side  to  Bald  Mountain,  so  that  while 
her  lover  could  thus  see  her,  any  signal  that  she  gave 
might  be  interpreted,  if  seen  by  one  of  her  own  people, 
to  be  simply  a  greeting  of  "  good-morning,"  because 
the  island  would  be  between  her  and  the  mountain. 
So  she  paddled  swiftly  away,  and  when  near  the  far 
shore  she  stopped,  turned  about,  and  sitting  in  the 
stern  of  her  canoe,  she  gave  the  loon's  cry  to  the  morn- 
ing sun.  With  breathless  intensity  she  waited  for  a 
reply,  and  it  soon  came,  as  an  echo  of  the  same  weird 
call,  followed  by  a  perfect  imitation  of  the  loon's  un- 
canny laugh.  Almost  instantly  the  dead  fir  was  re- 
moved and  the  signal  that  had  done  its  work  was  seen 
no  more. 

Bald  Mountain  is  about  five  miles  long  and  two  and 
a  quarter  miles  broad  in  places.  Its  peak  is  nearly  flat, 
having  only  a  slight  contour.  At  its  base  Mud  Lake 
nestles  close  to  it  like  a  babe  against  its  mother's 
breast,  and  in  the  extreme  far  corner  of  the  lake  enor- 
mous springs  gush  up  from  its  bottom,  springs  of  clear 
and  very  cold  water,  where  the  trout  live  and  spawn, 
and  where  they  can  be  seen  almost  any  day  during  the 
spring  and  summer  months.  Anita  had  been  for  many 
weeks  accustomed  to  paddle  up  into  Mud  Lake,  push- 
ing her  canoe  over  the  great  series  of  springs  mentioned 
above  and  catching  enough  trout  to  stock  the  family  lar- 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     159 

der ;  so  no  excuse  would  be  needed  for  her  to  carry  out 
the  second  part  of  the  trysting  agreement  made  with  her 
by  old  Nicholas.  When  the  sun  had  swung  its  course 
around  to  the  back  of  Bald  Mountain  she  pushed  her 
canoe  silently  into  the  lake.  She  deftly  steered  it 
around  the  shore,  which  was  one  mass  of  overhanging 
green  foliage.  About  midway  of  the  lake  a  large 
spring  gushes  out  from  the  side  of  the  mountain,  form- 
ing quite  a  respectable  stream  before  it  reaches  the 
lake.  Intuitively  she  pushed  the  bow  of  her  canoe  into 
this  recess,  and  there,  indeed,  was  her  long-expected 
lover,  seated  in  his  canoe  awaiting  her  coming.  With- 
out any  other  form  of  introduction  than  simply  hold- 
ing up  his  right  hand  and  showing  her  the  token  upon 
the  third  finger,  they  rushed  into  each  other's  arms. 
Then  he  told  her  how  he  had  reached  Mctau  Lake 
some  four  days  before,  how  he  had  secreted  his  canoe 
and  how  he  had  climbed  Bald  Mountain  and  how  he 
had  slept  upon  its  peak  close  by  the  green  firs  upon 
the  table  rock  and  how  the  mist  for  four  successive 
mornings  had  hung  over  the  brow  of  the  mountain  and 
prevented  his  signal  from  being  seen,  how  he  had 
striven  to  see  her  and  how  he  had  climbed  trees  to 
watch  her,  and  then  how  disappointed  he  was  that  each 
day  found  him  no  nearer  his  love  quest  than  before. 
Then,  when  the  mist  cleared  away  on  the  morning  of 
this  day  of  their  meeting,  he  told  her  how  enraptured 
he  was  to  realize  that  she  had  recognized  his  signal,  to 


i6o  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

see  her  put  off  in  the  canoe,  to  watch  her  as  she  sped 
to  the  far  side  of  the  lake,  and  to  listen  with  much 
anxiety  until  the  welcome  morning  call  of  the  loon  was 
heard  and  he  saw  her  waving  the  paddle  of  her  canoe. 
Then  his  heart  was  glad,  because  he  knew  that  all  was 
well !  She,  in  turn,  told  him  of  her  long,  long  period 
of  anxiety  and  restless  anticipation  and  of  what  she 
had  done  and  planned  for  their  meeting.  They  had  not 
half  finished  their  conversation  when  the  shadows  of 
night  surrounded  them  and  again  bade  them  separate 
— she  to  her  island  home  and  he  to  his  bed  of  green 
boughs  on  the  top  of  Bald  Mountain.  But  before  part- 
ing they  agreed  to  meet  again  at  the  same  place  and  at 
the  same  hour  on  the  following  day. 

At  about  eleven  o'clock  on  the  next  day  three  canoes 
stopped  at  the  rocky  island ;  in  them  were  six  Maliset 
Indians  from  the  home  settlement.  They  were  on 
their  way  to  hunt  and  fish  on  the  Nipisquit  waters. 
One  of  them — Lonnie  Kasota — was  a  young  brave  who 
had  attempted  more  than  once  to  pay  attentions  to 
Anita,  but,  her  father  always  frowning  upon  his  ad- 
vances, he  had  not  made  much  headway.  Lonnie 
Kasota,  however,  had  not  forgotten  Anita's  charms, 
and  now  that  he  once  more  beheld  her,  he  was  seized 
with  such  a  violent  liking  for  the  girl  that  he  could  not 
take  his  eyes  away  from  her.  After  the  noonday  meal, 
her  father,  noticing  his  ardent  glances,  took  Anita 
aside  and  warned  her  against  giving  any  encourage- 


LEAVING  OUR  MAINE  CAMP  FOR  HOME 


See  page  146 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     161 

ment  to  Kasota's  suit,  at  the  same  time  ordering  her  to 
take  a  canoe  and  go  to  the  great  spring  at  the  far  end 
of  Mud  Lake  and  catch  enough  trout  for  use  during 
the  day — Anita  always  supplied  the  table  with  trout, 
for  she  was  indeed  an  expert  angler.  The  maiden,  in 
order  to  confuse  Kasota,  should  he  observe  her  de- 
parture, paddled  across  Nictau  Lake  to  the  opposite 
shore,  pushing  her  canoe  along  slowly  under  the 
shadows  of  the  trees  to  a  bunch  of  great  sycamores 
and  willows  that  grew  close  to  the  water's  edge.  As 
soon  as  she  thought  herself  out  of  observation,  her 
paddle  was  plied  with  all  the  strength  she  had,  so 
as  to  reach  the  trysting  place  without  being  dis- 
covered. On  arriving  there,  the  canoe  was  slipped 
deftly  into  the  mouth  of  the  little  stream,  and  jumping 
out  on  the  sloping  banks,  she  lifted  it  from  the  water 
and  dragged  it  into  the  underbrush.  This  done,  Anita 
sat  down  to  rest  and  to  think.  But  a  few  minutes 
elapsed  when  she  heard  the  call  of  a  kingfisher  from 
far  away,  and  this  being  the  signal  agreed  upon  be- 
tween her  lover  and  herself,  she  softly  answered  with 
the  long,  drawn-out  note  of  the  white-throated  spar- 
row— "  ah-tette-tette-te  " — which  she  repeated  at  inter- 
vals. Soon  the  bushes  parted  and  Frank  Talmunt 
stood  before  her,  radiant  with  joy  at  again  meeting  his 
heart's  delight.  Anita  informed  him  of  the  arrival  of 
the  three  canoes,  of  Kasota's  ardent  attachment,  and  of 
the  risk  they  ran  of  discovery,  as  he  might  be  even 


162  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

then  following  her  in  his  canoe,  and  that  she  must  ful- 
fil her  mission  in  catching  trout  for  the  use  of  the 
camp.  Frank,  acting  impetuously  upon  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  and  impressed  with  the  necessity  of 
promptly  "  taking  time  by  the  forelock  "  proposed  that 
she  should  elope  with  him  the  following  morning,  tell- 
ing her  that  he  had  already  arranged  with  the  good 
priest  on  his  trip  down  the  Allegash  that  if  fortune 
favored  him  so  much  as  to  gain  her  consent,  and  if 
they  should  succeed  in  making  good  their  escape, 
he  should  marry  them,  and  in  proof  of  his  willingness 
to  make  them  man  and  wife,  he  had  given  Frank  his 
itinerary  of  travel  so  that  he  would  know  where  to  find 
him  on  the  waters  of  the  upper  St.  Johns,  to  which  he 
was  then  journeying.  The  lover  now  poured  out  his 
passion  to  Anita  with  all  the  eloquence  of  which  the 
poetic  red  man  is  capable,  saying  to  her,  "  Anita,  fire 
is  bright :  an  equal  light  leaps  in  the  flame  from  cedar, 
plank  or  weed ;  and  love  is  fire.  And  thus  I  say,  in- 
deed, I  love  thee,  mark,  /  love  thee  !  "  Thus  was  his 
avowal  made,  and  he  waited  with  breathless  interest  to 
hear  the  now  silent  maiden's  answer.  She  looked  long 
and  lovingly  into  his  eyes  and  then  replied,  leaning  her 
head  upon  his  breast,  "  Wilt  thou  have  me  fashion  into 
speech  the  love  I  bear  thee,  finding  words  enough,  and 
hold  the  torch  out  while  the  winds  are  rough  between 
our  faces  to  cast  light  on  each  ?  I  drop  it  at  thy  feet. 
Lo,  I  am  thine !  Beloved,  I  love  only  thee  !  " 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     163 

But  listen !  listen !  both  of  you  lovers,  listen !  What 
noise  is  that  which  breaks  in  upon  this  sylvan  paradise  ? 
Swish,  swish,  swish;  it's  the  paddle  of  a  canoeman. 
Nearer  and  nearer  it  comes.  They  f earsomely  part  the 
bushes  and  peer  out,  and  as  they  do  Kasota  glides  by, 
looking  in  every  direction  for  Anita's  canoe.  Thus 
warned,  they  decide  that  she  must  take  her  canoe  and 
paddle  over  to  the  great  springs,  where  she  will  surely 
be  joined  by  Kasota,  and  then  catch  her  quota  of  trout. 
She  is  then  to  return  promptly  to  her  rocky  home  and 
be  ready  some  time  in  the  early  morning  of  the  follow- 
ing day,  when  Frank's  signal  comes,  to  slip  into  her  ca- 
noe with  such  feminine  belongings  as  she  may  need 
upon  their  fateful  venture,  joining  him  in  an  elopement 
such  as  would  terrify  most  maidens  of  either  race,  red 
or  white. 

Here  was  the  problem  before  them :  In  order  to  pre- 
vent instant  pursuit  and  give  the  elopers  at  least  a  day's 
start,  it  would  be  necessary  that  they  should  loosen  the 
cables  of  all  the  canoes  and  let  them  drift  away  during 
the  early  hours  or  take  them  in  tow  and  leave  them 
somewhere  near  the  entrance  to  the  Tobique  Kiver,  a 
good  two  miles  from  the  island.  Four  canoes  and  one 
pirogue  must  be  spirited  away  in  some  such  manner. 
The  water  of  Nictau  Lake  was  too  cold  for  any  one  to 
swim  in,  in  order  to  reach  either  shore,  and  the  family 
and  their  guests  would  thus  be  prisoners  on  the  island 
until  the  arrival  of  a  passing  canoe,  or  they  might,  per- 


164  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

haps,  cut  down  the  two  or  three  trees  on  the  rock  and 
out  of  them  make  a  raft  with  which  to  reach  the  shore. 
We  may  be  sure  Anita  slept  little  that  night,  although 
she  went  to  her  tent  very  early  after  seeing  that 
the  canoes  and  the  pirogue  were  all  afloat  in  the 
water,  so  that  in  the  morning  there  would  be  no 
scraping  of  the  canoes  when  their  cables  were  cast  off. 
At  about  eleven  o'clock  a  rather  brisk  wind  commenced 
to  blow  across  the  lake.  Oh !  if  it  would  only  change, 
she  thought,  and  waft  the  canoes  down  the  lake  all 
would  be  well,  and  for  this  Frank  on  the  land  and 
Anita  on  the  rock  were  both  praying.  Twelve  o'clock 
came  and  every  one  was  sleeping  soundly.  One 
o'clock  brought  a  flurry  of  rain  and  a  sharp  puff  of 
wind.  Anita  softly  slipped  down  to  the  water's  edge 
with  her  precious  freight.  Her  father  heard  her  and 
whispering  to  her,  asked  what  was  the  matter.  She 
replied  that  she  was  looking  after  her  canoe  to  see  if  it 
was  securely  fastened.  Satisfied  with  the  answer,  he 
was  soon  wrapt  in  slumber  again.  The  call  of  the  great 
horned  owl, "  To-whoot-to-who-to-whoo"  from  the  near 
shore  of  the  lake  broke  into  the  stillness.  It  was  Frank's 
call  to  Anita.  She  now  loosened  the  pirogue  and  all 
the  canoes,  one  by  one,  excepting  her  own,  and  let  them 
drift  away  into  the  inky  darkness  while  with  bated 
breath  and  straining  ears  she  awaited  the  arrival  of  her 
lover.  The  embers  of  their  camp-fire,  which  were  even 
yet  sputtering  and  smoking  in  the  rain,  would  be  a  guid- 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     165 

ing  star  to  Frank.  She  did  not  expect  him  to  announce 
his  coining  by  any  noise  of  the  paddle,  knowing  well  that 
he  would  propel  his  canoe  by  sculling  without  lifting 
the  paddle  out  of  the  water.  So  when  he  glided  into 
view,  he  seemed  to  her  like  a  ghostly  apparition  from 
another  world,  causing  her  a  momentary  start.  With- 
out speaking  a  word,  she  stepped  into  her  canoe,  loosed 
it  from  its  fastenings,  sat  down  in  the  stern  and,  offer- 
ing up  a  silent  prayer  for  safety  and  for  her  father  and 
mother's  forgiveness,  let  her  canoe  drift  away  from  the 
rock,  and  aided  by  the  now  favoring  wind  and  the  cur- 
rent which  always  sets  toward  the  outlet,  she  cut  the 
gordian  knot  which  bound  her  to  home  and  kindred. 
The  die  was  cast ;  she  had  given  up  everything,  father, 
mother,  brothers,  home  and  tribe,  and  ventured  out 
upon  the  unexplored  sea  of  marital  bliss  or  misery.  She 
sat  passive  in  her  canoe  without  motion  or  speech,  and 
with  it  drifted  with  the  wind  and  the  current  as  they 
listed.  Anita  was  dreaming  of  the  unknown  future,  of 
the  perils  that  lay  before  them,  of  the  promised  home 
in  the  far-away  regions  which  Frank  had  christened 
"  Our  Lake  " — our  lake,  hers  and  his — "  Our  Lake," 
where  all  the  joys  that  could  ever  be  hoped  for  by  a 
true  loving  maid  were  to  be  hers.  And  she  thought  of 
the  letter  written  on  birch  bark  which  she  had  left  ad- 
dressed to  her  father,  mother  and  brothers,  telling  them 
how  she  had  gone  away  with  her  heart's  choice,  apolo- 
gizing for  the  manner  of  her  going,  because  of  their 


166  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

pronounced  opposition  to  her  marrying  one  of  her  own 
race.  She  thought  of  the  scene  that  would  ensue  when 
they  found  their  canoes  gone,  of  their  anger  when  the 
telltale  letter  would  be  discovered,  and  their  chagrin  to 
know  that  her  future  husband  was  to  be  Frank  Tal- 
munt,  who  was  well  known  to  them  by  reputation. 

What  was  Frank  doing  the  while  ?  He  was  captur- 
ing the  drifting  pirogue  and  the  four  canoes,  stringing 
them  out  into  a  tow-line  and  doing  so  without  making 
noise  enough  to  cause  alarm.  When  his  task  was  done, 
he  was  soon  alongside  of  Anita's  canoe,  and  being  now 
out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  her  kindred,  he  clasped  her  to 
his  breast.  While  thus  locked  in  each  other's  arms  and 
drifting  with  wind  and  stream,  the  waning  hours  of 
the  early  morning  but  too  soon  fled  away.  When 
Aurora  flecked  the  eastern  sky  with  rosy  blushes,  they 
were  even  then  at  the  outlet  of  the  lake.  Before  enter- 
ing the  river,  Frank  hid  and  secured  the  canoes  and  the 
pirogue  behind  a  mass  of  rank  vegetation  on  the  right- 
hand  side.  Knowing  that  Anita  was  an  expert  in  the 
use  of  the  paddle,  he  considered  it  best  to  descend  the 
river  with  the  two  canoes  rather  than  one.  Leading 
the  way,  he  started  down  the  rapid  and  tortuous 
stream.  Having  a  good  "pitch"  of  water,  they  ran 
down  to  Red  Bank,  twelve  miles  from  the  mouth,  be- 
fore stopping  for  refreshment.  Here  Anita  took  her 
fishing-tackle  to  catch  trout  for  breakfast  and  Frank 
cut  wood  and  built  a  fire,  brought  water  from  the 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     167 

sparkling  river,  and  soon  had  water  bubbling  in  the 
kettle,  potatoes  boiling  in  the  pot  and  pork  rinds  sizzling 
in  the  frying-pan,  ready  for  Anita's  catch  of  fish,  which 
she  was  not  long  in  bringing  to  camp.  After  the 
morning  meal,  Anita  washed  the  dishes  and  then  helped 
Frank  in  gathering  green  boughs  enough  for  two  of 
Nature's  finest  mattresses.  Frank  had  brought  two 
fine  new  tents — his  own  he  pitched  near  the  water's 
edge,  but  behind  a  mass  of  alder  bushes,  so  that  he 
might  be  aroused  if  any  one  passed  during  the  after- 
noon. Anita's  he  pitched  in  a  secluded  grove  of  small 
firs  about  a  stone's  throw  from  the  river.  As  they 
were  to  start  when  the  moon  appeared,  they  slept 
until  darkness  and  the  chill  of  night  awoke  them. 
They  paddled  all  night,  and  bright  and  early  next 
morning  Anita,  as  before,  set  out  to  catch  fish  and 
Frank  to  get  the  fire  going  and  the  water  boiling. 
Breakfast  was  finished,  and  they  were  off  again  before 
the  sun  was  half  an  hour  high.  A  right  glorious  run 
of  nearly  twenty  miles  brought  them  down  below  the 
"  Forks,"  where  four  branches  of  the  Tobique  come  to- 
gether, and  past  Riley's  Brook,  where  they  stopped  for 
the  balance  of  the  day ;  here  was  a  famous  salmon 
pool.  Frank's  plan  was  to  run  the  balance  of  the  river 
entirely  by  moonlight.  As  the  pitch  of  water  was 
good  and  the  moon  nearly  at  the  full,  by  running  at 
night  they  would  avoid  chances  of  meeting  canoemen 
coming  up  the  river  and  thus  would  prevent  news  of 


i68  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

their  whereabouts  reaching  the  islanders,  whom  they 
were  sure  would  now  be  after  them  in  hot  pursuit. 

It  was  now  night  once  more,  and,  taking  their 
canoes,  they  ran  down  the  river  by  moonlight  and  slept 
during  the  daytime,  so  that  when  they  reached  the 
Maliset  settlement  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tobique,  they 
swept  through  it  in  the  dark  to  the  accompaniment  of 
the  barking  of  a  host  of  dogs.  Entering  the  St.  Johns 
Kiver,  they  paddled  up-stream  until  the  Grand  Falls 
were  reached,  where  the  river  makes  a  sheer  plunge  of 
one  hundred  and  seventeen  feet.  They  carried  their 
canoes  around  the  falls  by  a  good  road  and  were  soon 
again  on  the  way.  They  arrived  on  the  seventh  day 
from  their  start  at  the  lake,  at  a  settlement  now  called 
"  Conners,"  where  they  were  rejoiced  to  see  Fere 
Lamorieux  stepping  into  a  canoe  to  go  down  the  river 
while  a  crowd  of  lumbermen  were  bidding  him  good- 
bye at  the  landing.  Frank  and  Anita  pushed  their 
canoes  alongside  of  his,  and  Frank  earnestly  asked  him 
to  marry  them  there  and  then.  The  faithful  priest 
consented  and  rejoiced  them  by  telling  them  that  he 
had  already  published  their  bans  of  marriage  the 
required  number  of  times.  He,  therefore,  stepped 
ashore  and,  entering  one  of  the  log  houses,  set  up 
an  altar.  There,  surrounded  by  the  astonished  lumber- 
men, he  made  them  man  and  wife. 

The  hardy  woodsmen  insisted  upon  celebrating  the 
occasion  by  a  rustic  dance  and  then  a  wedding 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     169 

dinner,  which  every  one  enjoyed  with  great  gusto. 
Roast  moose,  boiled  salmon,  baked  partridges,  baked 
potatoes,  as  white  as  snow,  preserved  wild  strawberries 
and  plenty  of  rich  butter  and  cream  made  up  the  bill 
of  fare ;  no  wonder  that  the  dinner  was  a  success.  But 
the  lovers  must  be  off  if  they  were  to  keep  ahead  of 
the  chase.  Father  Lamorieux  promised  to  watch  for 
the  expected  pursuers  as  he  descended  the  river,  and  if 
he  met  them,  to  assure  them  that  pursuit  was  useless, 
as  he  had  made  Frank  and  Anita  man  and  wife,  and  no 
power  on  earth  could  now  dissolve  the  bond.  Amid 
the  clamor  of  tin  pans,  of  rousing  cheers  and  of  wav- 
ing hats,  our  lovers  stepped  into  Frank's  canoe.  They 
now  had  no  use  for  Anita's  canoe,  and  they  could  make 
better  time  against  the  stream  with  one  canoe  than  the 
two,  so  they  gave  it  as  a  present  to  Father  Lamorieux. 
Thus  cheered  on  their  way,  they  happily  pushed  up  the 
great  river  and  were  soon  lost  to  sight. 

Two  brooks  as  clear  as  crystal  form  the  head  waters 
of  "  Our  Lake,"  and  on  the  right  hand  of  the  main 
stream,  as  you  go  up  to  the  dam,  the  larger  of  the  two 
plunges  down  the  side  of  a  ridge  in  a  succession  of 
bounding  leaps,  the  tumultuous  waters  cutting  a  sharp 
gash  in  the  side  of  the  ridge.  Here  and  there  is  a 
shelf,  where  the  water  has  touched  solid  rock,  has 
spread  out  right  and  left,  and  has  thus  washed  away  the 
encumbering  soil  leaving  a  space  large  enough  to  build 
a  cabin  or  two  upon.  One  of  these  is  so  high  above 


170  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

the  valley  and  screened  so  effectually  from  it  by  its 
curtain  of  white  wood  and  fir  trees  that  the  smoke  and 
light  from  an  evening  fire  cannot  be  seen  from  be- 
low. In  such  a  secluded  location  no  one  would  ever 
think  of  looking  for  any  sign  of  civilized  life.  Here 
game  of  all  kinds  was  abundant  at  the  time  about 
which  I  am  writing,  and  the  two  brooks  and  the 
lake  were  full  of  square-tailed  trout.  Charley  Nicholas 
had  discovered  this  cul-de-sac  when  he  had  been  run- 
ning a  line  of  traps  some  years  previously,  and  he 
and  Frank  had  planned  that  the  place  should  be  their 
future  home. 

After  finishing  the  rude  house  and  a  shed  in 
which  to  hang  game  and  prepare  skins  for  market, 
Nicholas  made  his  way  across  country  to  head  off 
Frank,  if  possible.  When  he  arrived  at  the  mouth  of 
Churchill  Brook,  which  empties  into  Amsuzkis  Lake, 
he  found  a  place  from  which  he  could  scan  the  lake  for 
a  long  distance.  Here  he  waited  and  watched,  and  on 
the  second  day  he  was  rewarded  by  seeing  a  canoe 
coming  up  with  a  man  and  a  woman  in  it,  both  pad- 
dling with  might  and  main.  When  they  were  within 
hearing,  Charley  beckoned  them  to  turn  into  the  mouth 
of  the  brook,  which  was  like  the  letter  "  S  "  in  shape, 
while  a  piece  further  on,  the  lake  made  an  abrupt  turn 
to  the  right. 

As  may  be  surmised,  the  canoe  contained  the  newly 
married  ones,  who  were  being  closely  followed  by  two 


A  ROMANCE  OF  "OUR  LAKE"     171 

canoes  in  which  were  Anita's  father  and  brothers  and 
Kasota.  As  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  the  canoe  pushed 
on  up  the  brook  to  the  head  of  the  letter  "  S,"  Charley 
Nicholas  posting  himself  as  before  on  the  lookout  point. 
In  twenty  minutes  the  two  canoes  swept  into  view  and 
rapidly  passed  the  mouth  of  the  brook.  Bounding 
the  corner  into  the  lake  and  not  seeing  Frank's  canoe, 
the  men  evidently  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
slipped  into  the  mouth  of  the  brook.  They  turned 
back  and  pushed  into  the  opening,  and  so  close  were 
they  to  where  Charley  Nicholas  lay  concealed  that 
he  could  easily  hear  their  every  word.  Kasota  was 
strongly  advising  them  to  push  on  without  wasting 
time  in  searching  the  mouth  of  every  brook,  and  they 
would  be  sure  to  overtake  the  runaways  at  Mud  Pond 
Carry,  a  portage  of  two  and  one-half  miles  over  one  of 
the  worst  roads  on  the  continent.  Joe  Sebattis  advised 
a  close  search  in  the  mouth  of  every  brook,  but  as  no 
suspicious  signs  were  discovered  in  Churchill  Brook,  he 
gave  the  word  to  turn  about  and  make  for  Mud  Pond 
Carry.  Their  departure  was  very  welcome  to  Nicholas 
and  more  so  to  Anita,  who  had  overheard  a  portion 
of  the  conversation.  When  the  two  canoes  were  out  of 
sight,  the  now  happy  trio  told  and  retold  the  story 
of  the  wedding,  of  the  long  flight  up  the  St.  Johns, 
how  they  were  nearly  overtaken  in  the  "  Nigger  "  rapids 
because  of  the  breaking  of  Anita's  paddle,  how  they 
providentially  met  a  passing  canoe  and  from  it  ob- 


172  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

tained  the  loan  of  a  spare  paddle,  how,  from  the  high 
rock  above  Allegash  Falls  on  the  Allegash  River,  they 
again  sighted  the  pursuers,  how  they  slipped  into  the 
mouth  of  the  Musquacook  stream,  when  the  pace  be- 
came too  hot,  then  carried  their  canoe  across  a  sharp 
bend  into  the  Musquacook;  and  so  the  chase  went 
on,  through  Round  Lake,  up  the  Allegash  quick 
water,  through  Long  Lake  to  their  present  stopping 
place. 

Nicholas's  plan  was  to  wait  a  couple  of  days 
where  they  were,  then  to  go  ahead  and  cross  Cham- 
berlain Lake  and  from  the  far  shore  of  that  lake  make 
a  long  carry  right  over  to  "  Our  Lake,"  a  distance  of 
say  twelve  miles.  Nicholas  argued  that  by  this  plan 
they  would  win  out  in  the  race  because  the  others 
would  keep  on  until  they  finally  reached  Kineo,  on 
Moosehead  Lake,  and  not  finding  the  fugitives  there, 
they  would  wait  and  wait  until  the  danger  of  the 
streams  freezing  up  would  compel  them  to  return 
home,  discomfited  and  beaten,  and  before  another 
summer  arrived  the  bitterness  of  defeat  would  have 
been  allayed  and  a  reconciliation  might  be  effected. 
This  scheme  was  adopted,  the  long  carry  of  twelve 
miles  with  the  canoe  and  its  impedimenta  was  made 
in  a  day,  and  once  in  the  lodge  at  the  head  of  "  Our 
Lake  "  they  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  and  cast  care  to  the 
winds,  for  here  was  in  very  truth  a  haven  of  rest  fit  for 
any  prince  or  princess  in  the  land. 


A  ROMANCE  OF  -OUR  LAKE"     173 

And  as  for  Frank  and  Anita  — 

"From  that  day  forth,  in  peace  and  joyous  bliss 

They  lived  together  long  without  debates, 
Nor  private  jars,  nor  spite  of  enemies, 
Could  shake  the  safe  assurance  of  their  states. " 


PART  II 

A  Hunting  Trip  in  Northern  British 
Columbia 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
OFF   FOR  THE  WILDS 

FOR  years  I  have  been  dreaming,  at  times  by  night, 
but  more  often  by  broad  daylight,  of  that  time  in  some 
far-off  wilderness  of  the  extreme  northwest  of  this 
great  continent,  when,  accoutered  with  rifle  and  hunt- 
ing-knife, I  should  meet  a  big,  fine  specimen  of  the 
ursus  horribilis,  or  in  plain  English  a  grizzly  bear,  face 
to  face,  and  should  down  him. 

In  consequence  of  this  yearning,  during  the  early 
part  of  the  year  much  time  was  spent  in  correspond- 
ence with  game  commissioners,  game  wardens,  railway 
officials,  hunters  and  guides  regarding  the  most  likely 
locality  for  coming  in  contact  with  his  majesty— the 
grizzly.  From  all  accounts,  the  Bear  Lake  region,  in 
the  far  northwestern  part  of  British  Columbia,  seemed 
to  offer  the  best  chance  of  success. 

The  good  offices  of  the  Philadelphia  representative 
of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad  were  solicited,  and  he 
took  care  that  we  should  have  the  best  attention  from 
the  officials  along  his  line.  Our  party  consisted  of  Dr. 
W.  E.  Hughes,  of  Philadelphia,  scientist  with  Peary's 
first  expedition ;  Dr.  "W.  J.  Roe,  of  the  staff  of  the  Jef- 
ferson Hospital ;  Dr.  W.  R.  Roe,  his  brother ;  and  the 
writer. 


178  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

It  was  a  hot  afternoon  when  our  train  pulled  out  of 
the  station  in  Philadelphia  at  4 : 30  P.  M.,  August  24th, 
bound  for  our  long,  long  journey  to  the  far  northwest. 
The  air  in  the  sleeping  car  was  heavy  and  stiflingly  hot. 

The  passengers  soon  divested  themselves  of  their  sur- 
plus clothing,  and  substituted  the  lightest  things  they 
had  with  them.  "  A  lady  faire,"  who  enjoyed  the 
comforts  of  the  drawing-room  compartment  all  by 
"  her  lonesome,"  set  an  example  to  the  other  ladies  in 
the  car  of  how  to  make  the  best  of  a  "  hot  situation." 

She  entered  the  car  with  a  rustle  and  swish  of  silken 
garments,  which  in  the  privacy  of  the  drawing-room 
speedily  gave  way  to  gauze  and  muslins.  Then  she 
opened  the  door  looking  into  her  little  parlor,  and  we 
all  could  see  her  stretched  out  upon  the  settee  or 
lounge,  a  picture  of  solid  comfort. 

A  mannish  woman  with  a  piercingly  sharp  voice 
paid  assiduous  attention  to  an  aged  man — presumably 
her  father.  She  talked  much  and  "her  speech  was 
like  a  tangled  chain;  nothing  impaired,  but  all  dis- 
ordered." She  sat  with  her  father  most  of  the  after- 
noon and  the  following  forenoon  in  the  men's  smoking 
compartment,  and  while  he  smoked  long,  black  cigars 
she  puffed  away  at  her  favorite  cigarettes,  and  that 
sharp  voice  of  hers  effectually  stilled  most  of  the  other 
smokers'  voices. 

An  affectionate  old  couple  sat  opposite  to  us ;  the 
woman  with  silver  hair,  the  husband  with  none  of  any 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  179 

color,  amused  the  writer  very  much  by  their  quaint 
ways.  They  were  bound  for  the  Seattle  exposition, 
and,  as  the  train  rushed  along  through  the  hills  and 
valleys  of  the  Keystone  state,  everything  seemed  new 
and  startling  to  them.  The  wife  once,  on  returning 
from  the  women's  compartment,  got  by  her  husband 
without  seeing  him,  and  was  just  turning  into  the  nar- 
row passageway  at  the  far  end  of  the  car  when  he 
called  to  her  in  a  high,  querulous  voice : 

"  Be  ye  a-goin'  to  leave  me,  E-liz-a  ?  " 

She  turned  around  much  confused,  and  when  her  old 
eyes  once  more  guided  her  to  where  the  lover  of  her 
youthful  days  sat  she  said : 

"Leave  ye,  Asa?  Leave  ye?  No,  no.  I'll  never 
leave  you  while  I  live." 

How  they  cackled  and  laughed  over  this  tiny  inci- 
dent, it  would  have  done  your  heart  good  to  see,  be- 
cause she  admitted  that  she  was  real  "  skart "  when  she 
missed  him. 

A  man  sitting  behind  us  evinced  a  strong  desire  to 
be  sociable.  He  was  returning  to  his  home  in  Missouri 
after  having  made  his  first  visit  to  Philadelphia.  He 
was  a  merchant  out  there,  and  had  been  for  thirty-four 
years  accustomed  to  visit  New  York  twice  a  year  to 
buy  goods.  He  had  recently  heard  about  the  "  stop- 
over privilege "  at  Philadelphia,  so  he  bought  a  ticket 
over  the  "  Pennsy,"  which  gave  him  the  right  to  stop 
off  at  the  Quaker  City  for  ten  days.  He  first  went  to 


i8o  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

the  seashore  and  then  back  to  the  big  city,  where  he 
went  to  see  Fairmount  Park.  He  had  all  these  years 
been  buying  ready-made  clothing  of  a  house  in  Phila- 
delphia. He  called  upon  these  people  and  was  so  im- 
pressed with  the  size  and  merits  of  their  plant  and  the 
courteous  treatment  which  he  received  that  he  now 
says  it  will  be  Philadelphia  for  him  twice  a  year  after 
this. 

Citizens  generally  do  not  realize  what  an  advantage 
this  stop-over  privilege  is  to  every  one  engaged  in 
business  in  the  city.  Merchants  of  the  west,  the  north- 
west and  southwest  are  finding  out  now  more  than 
ever  before  that  in  addition  to  the  permission  given  to 
"  break  the  journey,"  as  our  English  cousins  put  it, 
they  can  ride  over  the  best-appointed  railway  system 
in  the  world  and  buy  in  the  best  markets  for  many 
lines  of  goods  in  the  whole  United  States. 

This  Missourian  was  loud  in  praise  of  the  fine 
scenery  and  well-kept  and  prosperous-looking  farms  of 
the  old  Keystone  state.  And  next  morning  as  the 
train  sped  through  the  state  of  Ohio  and  a  portion  of 
Indiana  the  contrast  between  the  farms  in  these  states 
and  our  own  was  very  marked,  indeed. 

The  farms  in  Ohio  seemed  to  be  particularly  slovenly 
kept.  On  many  of  them  the  weeds  outranked  in 
growth  the  crops  themselves. 

We  arrived  at  Chicago  in  a  rain.  The  time-table 
gave  us  an  hour  and  a  half  to  go  from  the  Pennsylvania 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  181 

station  to  the  Wisconsin  Central,  and  we  felt  sure  we 
should  have  plenty  of  time  and  to  spare,  but  it  was  an 
hour  and  twenty  minutes  before  our  baggage  appeared 
at  the  train  for  St.  Paul.  A  new  trunk,  built  to  order 
and  most  carefully  made  to  withstand  the  iniquity  of 
any  baggageman,  had  already  come  to  grief  in  having 
the  lock  broken  off. 

An  inspection  of  the  interior  showed  as  soon  as  the 
lid  was  opened  that  a  bottle  of  Scotch  which  had  been 
incased  in  a  straw  cover  and  again  in  a  corrugated 
wrapper  and  then  rolled  up  in  an  army  flannel  shirt 
was  smashed  and  the  contents  had  soaked  through  and 
through  our  collection  of  hunting  toggery.  The  bag- 
gageman on  the  train  said  that  the  "  foul  deed  "  had 
been  done  in  the  Chicago  station,  where  they  will  not 
wait  to  remove  the  trunks  from  the  trucks  singly,  but 
dump  the  truck  load  on  the  floor  of  the  baggage-room 
"  at  one  fell  swoop,"  one  on  top  of  the  other,  and  away 
they  go  for  more. 

The  night  we  left  Chicago  was  intensely  hot  and 
muggy,  and  in  consequence  my  underclothing  had  be- 
come wet  with  perspiration.  A  bright  thought  of 
mine  was  to  hang  it  up  in  front  of  the  lower  window 
in  my  berth,  and  there  it  would  dry  during  the  night ; 
but,  behold !  we  ran  into  a  dense  fog,  and  as  a  result 
it  was  soaking  wet  in  the  morning  and  covered  with 
soot  and  coal  ashes  into  the  bargain.  In  lieu  of  these 
garments  I  put  on  a  bathing  suit  and  my  outer  clothes 


182  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

over  them  and  awaited  an  opportunity  to  get  to  the 
baggage-car  for  a  change  of  underwear. 

This  car  was  next  to  the  engine,  and  was  locked,  so 
that  I  had  to  jump  off  at  a  stopping  place  and  sprint 
forward  to  reach  the  car  before  the  train  started.  The 
conductor  paid  no  attention  to  me,  and  before  I  got  to 
the  car  door  at  the  side  he  had  given  the  signal  to 
start,  and  off  the  train  went,  with  every  vestibuled 
door  closed  behind  me,  so  that  my  retreat  by  the  rear 
was  thus  cut  off.  The  baggageman  was  in  the  act  of 
closing  his  sliding  door.  I  yelled  to  him  to  give  me  a 
lift,  as  I  was  in  trouble— and  that  was  as  true  as  gospel. 
He  stooped  down  and  gave  me  his  hand.  I  placed  my 
right  foot  against  the  iron  brace  below  the  door,  and 
presto !  I  was  pulled  up  and  into  the  car. 

It  required  some  searching  to  find  a  suit  of  under- 
wear that  didn't  have  any  spirits  soaked  through  it. 
With  the  aid  of  a  friendly  newspaper  spread  upon  the 
floor  to  stand  on,  I  was  able  to  undress  and  dress  again 
in  comfort,  as  there  was  plenty  of  room  to  work  in. 

The  new  grain  elevators  in  course  of  erection  in 
the  section  of  country  we  were  now  passing  through 
are  mostly  being  built  with  reinforced  concrete,  while 
the  up-to-date  farmers  are  having  steel  granaries  built 
for  their  own  use  which  are  weather  and  wind  proof 
and  fire  proof  as  well.  Oh,  the  sight  of  some  of  the 
yet-growing  crops,  of  the  crops  being  harvested  and  of 
those  cut  and  already  thrashed,  and  of  the  number  of 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  183 

plows  at  work  in  breaking  the  ground  for  next  year's 
planting,  is  in  itself  worth  coming  out  here  to  see ! 
No  living  man  in  the  past  ever  saw  such  an  extent  of 
bountiful  crops  everywhere  in  Pennsylvania,  Ohio, 
Indiana,  North  Dakota,  Minnesota,  Wisconsin,  Sas- 
katchewan, Alberta  and  Assiniboia  as  can  be  seen  at 
the  present  time. 

It  is  a  revelation  of  this  country's  resources,  a  har- 
binger of  great  prosperity,  when  every  man  who  needs 
work  or  who  wants  to  work  and  will  work  may  have  all 
the  work  that  he  can  do  and  at  good  wages  as  well.  The 
product  of  the  millions  of  acres  of  wheat,  of  oats  and 
of  flax  which  are  now  nearly  ready  for  the  markets  of 
the  world,  and  which  will  command  the  highest  prices 
ever  paid  for  grain  at  this  season  of  the  year — except- 
ing during  war  time — must,  when  sold,  set  all  the  idle 
mills  a-going  and  keep  the  furnaces  at  white  heat  and 
fill  the  empty  freight  cars  to  overflowing  and  the  sail- 
ing and  steam  vessels  to  bursting  with  the  golden 
grain.  Wherever  we  went  trains  of  cars  were  waiting 
to  be  loaded.  Others  already  loaded  were  blocked  in 
the  sidings.  The  local  elevators  in  the  minor  towns 
were  reported  filled  to  their  limit,  and  the  tide 
has  but  just  started.  It  was  a  glorious  and  inspiriting 
spectacle,  this  veritable  sea  of  grain  and  of  flax, 
which  stretched  away  as  far  as  the  eye  of  man  could 
see. 

One  of  the  passengers  who  had  been  a  member  of 


184  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

our  diplomatic  corps  in  Chile  broke  into  an  enthusiastic 
outburst  of  gladness  at  the  sight  of  the  great  harvest. 
He  said : 

"  I  wouldn't  have  missed  this  glorious  vision,  for 
vision  it  is,  for  a  great  deal.  Oh,  what  a  country  we 
have  to  boast  of.  Just  see  how  nice  and  snug  the  sky 
fits  down  over  everything  on  this  prairie.  I  can't  blame 
a  settler  here  if  he  should  become  a  confirmed  egotist, 
because  wherever  he  stands  or  wherever  he  looks  he  is 
the  '  centre  of  the  universe.'  Look  at  all  of  this  wealth 
of  wheat  and  of  oats  and  just  think  of  our  fool  United 
States  Senate  which  says  you  shan't  take  a  bushel  of 
this  wheat  over  into  God's  country  without  paying 
twenty-five  cents'  duty  upon  it,  or  a  bushel  of  those 
white  oats  without  paying  fifteen  cents,  or  a  bushel  of 
potatoes  without  paying  more  than  their  cost.  I'm  a 
Republican  and  always  have  been,  but  I'll  be  gol- 
darned  if  I  don't  vote  for  a  Democrat  for  congressman 
at  the  next  election.  Now,  folks,  you  just  watch  me 
and  see  how  I'll  shout  for  the  Democratic  candidate  ? 
no  matter  who  he  is." 

Let  us  say  a  word  more  about  the  crops.  On  the 
train  was  a  gentleman  from  Philadelphia  who  is  one  of 
a  company  of  Quaker  City  capitalists  now  engaged  in 
farming  a  tract  of  land  forty-five  miles  back  of  Moose 
Jaw.  This  company  is  called  "The  Overbrook  Wheat 
Farms  Co."  They  purchased  3,040  acres  at  less  than 
twenty  dollars  per  acre,  and  then  purchased  the  latest 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  185 

and  most  efficient  mechanical  appliances  for  use  on  the 
farm. 

They  plow  with  a  gasoline  machine  which  cuts  six 
furrows  as  it  glides  majestically  along,  and  this  is  fol- 
lowed by  a  gigantic  harrow — also  propelled  by  the  gas 
made  from  gasoline — which  literally  tears  and  rips  the 
sods  to  shreds.  If  a  ditch  is  needed,  a  trenching 
machine  is  started  across  a  field  that  digs  the  ditch  and 
throws  out  the  excavated  material  upon  the  banks  at 
the  same  time. 

Last  year  being  their  first,  they  broke  up  500  acres 
and  planted  this  tract  with  wheat  and  oats,  both  crops 
— and  mighty  crops  they  are — being  now  ready  for  the 
reaper.  Next  year  1,500  acres  more  will  be  broken  up, 
and  that  also  planted  with  grain,  and  so  on  until  the 
whole  tract  is  under  cultivation.  Two  gangs  of  men 
are  kept  at  work  at  good  wages. 

Gang  No.  1  starts  at  3  A.  M.,  works  until  7,  then 
rests.  Gang  No.  2  starts  at  7  and  works  until  12. 
Then  gang  No.  1  again  takes  hold  and  quits  at  5. 
No.  2  follows  and  works  as  long  as  the  moonlight  will 
permit.  But,  mind  you,  the  machines  are  going  all  the 
time — eighteen  hours  a  day.  Contrast  this  with  a  pair 
of  horses  which  reach  their  limit  of  endurance  with 
eight  hours  of  plowing,  and  then  cut  but  one  furrow  at 
a  time.  This  Behemoth  cuts  six  furrows  in  less  time 
than  the  horses  can  cut  one  furrow ;  and  it  works 
double  the  length  of  time.  Marvelous,  isn't  it  ?  It  is 


186  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

needless  to  say  that  my  Philadelphia  friend  was  as 
much  entranced  with  the  monumental  harvest  and  its 
attendant  activities  as  any  of  us. 

The  train  was  crowded  with  people  for  the  Seattle 
exhibition,  and  among  them  were  many  school 
"  marms  "  en  route  for  Tacoma  and  Seattle,  where  the 
schools  open  on  the  1st  of  September.  One  of  these 
teachers,  a  bright  and  earnest  little  woman,  told  us  that 
there  were  TOO  teachers  in  Seattle,  and  in  Tacoma,  400, 
many  of  whom  spent  their  summers  East  and  their 
winters  on  the  "  coast "  teaching. 

A  stout  woman  who  had  been  unable  to  get  a  lower 
berth,  although  she  had  tried  at  Chicago  and  St.  Paul, 
finally  became  angry,  and,  addressing  the  other  occu- 
pants of  the  car  with  much  energy,  she  said : 

"  I'm  not  going  to  climb  up  to  my  roost  like  a 
chicken.  If  the  company  doesn't  give  me  a  lower 
berth,  I  will  keep  every  passenger  awake  all  night,  for 
I'll  sing  «  Shall  We  Gather  at  the  Eiver.'  I  will  pray 
aloud  and  I'll  tell  stories,  so  that  nobody  can  sleep." 
Alas  for  her,  it  was  of  no  use ;  this  dire  threat  didn't 
bring  her  a  lower  berth.  And  she  finally  had  to  "go 
up  to  roost  like  a  chicken,"  after  all.  If  she  had  tried 
the  mild  method  of  appeal  she  would  have  had  her 
heart's  desire,  but  no  man  wants  to  be  threatened  in 
order  to  grant  a  favor. 

A  superannuated  Methodist  minister,  who  has  been 
kept  busy  for  the  past  decade  in  stirring  up  various 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  187 

churches  to  give  more  freely  in  'paying  off  church 
debts,  was  also  headed  for  Seattle,  accompanied  by  his 
wife.  On  our  first  night  in  the  car  I  was  sound  asleep, 
with  my  back  toward  the  aisle,  when  about  one  o'clock 
in  the  morning  I  was  awakened  by  some  one  gently 
trying  to  push  me  over  in  the  berth,  while  a  voice  said 
in  a  half  whisper,  so  as  not  to  awaken  the  other 
sleepers : 

"  Turn  over,  turn  over,  Annie." 

Then  I  turned  over  with  a  vengeance  and  asked  the 
man — for  it  was  the  preacher — what  he  wanted  me  to 
turn  over  for.  I  wasn't  "Annie."  He  apologized 
again  and  again  and  then  found  his  berth,  which  was 
across  the  aisle.  I  told  his  wife  about  the  incident  in 
the  morning,  and  she  was  much  perturbed  over  it,  and 
in  confidence  she  told  another  woman,  and  in  this  way 
all  the  women  got  to  hear  of  it,  and  what  a  cackling 
there  was  after  that. 

Ashcroft,  where  we  leave  the  Canadian  Pacific  Bail- 
road,  derives  its  importance  chiefly  from  the  fact  that 
it  is  the  starting  point  of  the  famous  "  Cariboo  wagon 
road,"  which  runs  to  the  Frazer  Kiver,  to  and  through 
the  mining  regions  of  Lillouvet,  Quesnelle  Forks, 
Quesnelle  lakes,  Cottonwood,  Stanley  and  Barkerville, 
the  latter  town  being  the  terminus  of  the  main  stem  of 
the  road.  The  stage  line  passing  over  the  road  is 
operated  by  the  British  Columbia  Express  Company. 

It  has  a  splendid  equipment  of  stages,  stables  and 


i88  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

horses.  The  time  made  on  the  various  roads,  which 
aggregate  altogether  650  miles,  is  as  fast  as  any  one 
could  wish  for.  There  is  no  stinginess  about  the  use 
of  horses.  Our  first  day's  run  took  us  to  the  "  Eighty- 
three-mile  House,"  and  for  that  trip  twenty-two  horses 
were  used — four  relays  of  four  horses  each  and  one  of 
six.  The  second  day's  trip  carried  us  beyond  the  "  One- 
hundred-and-fifty-mile  House,"  to  Soda  Creek,  and 
thirty-six  horses  were  employed  in  pulling  the  stage — 
six  relays  of  six  horses  each.  The  animals  were  fat, 
well  groomed  and  full  of  life. 

The  fare  from  Ashcroft  to  Barkerville  is  $38.50, 
while  the  rate  for  carrying  merchandise  is  twelve  and 
a  half  cents  per  pound.  Over  the  road  an  enormous 
amount  of  freight  is  hauled  in  wagons  made  on  the  old 
prairie  schooner  build,  with  rounded  canvas  covers. 
Two  of  these  wagons  are  hitched  together,  and  they 
are  hauled  with  from  six  to  eight  horses.  The  out- 
ward trip  for  these  freight  wagons  to  Barkerville  takes 
about  twenty-three  days,  while  the  return  trip  with  the 
empty  wagons  occupies  perhaps  thirteen  days.  The 
lowest  freight  charges  are  six  dollars  per  hundred 
pounds. 

The  stages  stop  to  deliver  and  pick  up  mail  at  almost 
every  house  along  the  route.  During  summer  and  fall 
months  a  stage  leaves  Ashcroft  Monday  mornings  at 
four  o'clock  and  is  due  in  Barkerville,  about  three  hun- 
dred miles  away,  at  3  p.  M.  the  following  Thursday. 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  189 

The  second  day  of  the  trip  is  the  hardest.  Leaving 
"  Eighty -three-mile  House  "  at  4  A.  M.,  "  One-hundred- 
and-fif teen-mile  House"  is  reached  in  time  for  lunch, 
"  One-hundred-and-fifty-mile  House "  is  reached  for 
supper,  and  at  Soda  Creek,  on  the  Frazer  River,  the 
day's  run  ends  at  about  11  P.  M. 

The  distance  traveled  for  the  day  from  start  to  finish 
is  about  ninety-one  miles.  The  road  leads  up  one 
mountainside  and  down  another — up  and  down  all  day 
long,  with  very  little  level  ground.  The  road  is  a  good 
one ;  considering  its  length,  and  the  character  of  the 
country  through  which  it  passes,  it  is  superlatively  good. 

We  were  very  courteously  treated  in  Ashcroft  by 
the  British  Columbia  Express  people,  the  Canadian 
customs  official,  the  post-office  employees  and  the  hotel 
men.  One  of  our  trunks  got  astray,  and  much  tele- 
graphing was  needed  to  locate  it.  When  that  was 
finally  done  and  we  were  sure  of  its  final  arrival  the 
following  morning,  we  went  to  bed. 

At  3 : 30  A.  M.  we  were  up  and  off  to  the  express 
office,  where  all  the  baggage  was  taken  out  of  the 
trunks  and  repacked  in  dunnage  bags.  We  left  at 
4:30. 

Besides  the  stage  proper,  drawn  by  four  horses, 
which  contained  nine  passengers  and  the  mail,  there 
were  two  other  rigs  drawn  by  two  horses  each  and 
carrying  eight  more  passengers — seventeen  in  all. 
We  saw  the  first  game  of  the  trip  three  miles  from 


190  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Ashcroft.  It  was  a  black  tailed  doe  with  a  nearly 
full-grown  fawn.  They  were  feeding  in  a  valley,  and 
hearing  us  coming  they  ran  across  the  road  and  up  the 
side  of  a  steep  mountain. 

One  of  our  party  dreamed  of  bear,  talked  of  bear, 
and  was  really  bear  crazy.  When  we  arose  on  Tues- 
day morning  at  u  Eighty-three-mile  House,"  he  walked 
over  to  the  barn,  and  soon  came  back  panting  for 
breath.  He  had  just  seen  a  black  bear  walking  past 
the  barn. 

"Where's  my  gun?  Oh,  not  my  gun— my  rifle!" 
he  said.  The  landlord,  seeing  the  agitation  that  he 
was  in,  asked  him  what  was  the  matter,  and  when  he 
told  him  about  the  big,  ambling  bear  that  he  had  seen, 
the  landlord  simply  smiled  and  said  : 

"I  own  a  large  Newfoundland  dog,  and  he  often 
goes  to  the  barn." 

Our  portly  doctor  thereupon  looked  chopfallen  and 
said  nothing  more  about  the  bear. 

We  passed  a  somewhat  notable  caravan  near  "  One- 
hundred-mile  House."  There  were  eight  horses  pulling 
two  prairie  schooners.  Two  of  the  horses  had  colts, 
which  ran  alongside  their  mothers.  The  drivers  were 
Indians,  and  at  the  rear  was  a  young  squaw  riding 
astride  on  a  pony.  Strapped  to  her  back  was  a  cradle 
covered  with  an  old  shawl.  In  the  cradle  was  a  papoose, 
and  when  it  cried  the  mother  gently  shook  her  back, 
which  rocked  the  baby  with  a  rotary  motion  from  side 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  191 

to  side.  This  evidently  pleased  the  little  papoose,  as  it 
would  soon  stop  crying. 

At  "  One-hundred-and-fifty-mile  House "  the  road 
turns  almost  due  west,  the  objective  point  being  Soda 
Creek,  a  famous  landing  point  on  the  Frazer  River. 

We  left  "  One-hundred-and-fifty-mile  House  "  at  about 
5  : 30  p.  M.,  and  had  the  most  enjoyable  ride  of  the  trip. 

The  scenery  is  grand,  and  at  a  few  miles  from  Soda 
Creek  the  road  commences  to  drop  down  some 
1,100  feet  to  the  level  of  the  Frazer  River.  The  moon 
was  at  the  full,  and  such  a  moon  I  never,  never  saw ! 
It  appeared  to  be  as  large  again  as  it  does  to  us  in  the 
East ;  it  was  really  like  a  second  sun. 

By  its  light  we  rushed  on  behind  six  splendid  horses 
— up  mountains,  along  the  edges  of  canyons  yawning 
hundreds  of  feet  below  us,  down  into  the  valley,  around 
sharp  bends,  through  dense  groves  of  poplar  trees  and 
Douglas  firs,  and  over  bridges  crossing  swift-running 
streams.  Then,  with  brakes  on,  we  would  plunge  down 
at  such  a  rate  as  to  make  us  hold  our  breath.  But  that 
wonderful  moon  lighted  up  our  way  most  of  the  dis- 
tance, and  we  arrived  safe  and  sound  at  the  river's 
edge,  happy  that  we  had  had  such  a  unique  experience. 

At  Soda  Creek  the  stern-wheel  steamer  Charlotte 
was  awaiting  us.  And  here  we  found  Howard  W. 
Dubois,  a  famous  mining  engineer  in  these  parts,  who 
lives  in  the  winter  time  in  Philadelphia.  He  is  un- 
doubtedly one  of  the  best-known  and  most  frequently 


192  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

quoted  men  in  this  section.  He  was  on  his  way  to 
Vancouver,  and  would  take  our  stage  back  to  150-mile 
house,  starting  from  Soda  Creek  at  midnight. 

Our  steamer  left  at  the  same  hour  for  Quesnelle, 
sixty-five  miles  above,  and  we,  being  very  tired  from 
our  nineteen  hours  of  staging,  were  soon  in  bed  and 
sound  asleep. 

When  we  sat  down  to  breakfast  we  found  that  the 
steamer  had  made  extra  good  time  against  a  six-mile 
current,  and  in  three  hours  would  be  at  Quesnelle, 
about  four  hours  ahead  of  her  regular  time.  This  was 
on  account  of  the  splendid  light  of  the  full  moon, 
which  enabled  us  to  travel  at  full  speed  all  night  long. 

The  first  thing  worthy  of  observance  about  the 
famous  Frazer  River  is  the  number  of  "  busted  "  mining 
enterprises,  the  wrecks  of  which  can  be  seen  at  inter- 
vals, first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other — mute 
evidence  of  blasted  hopes,  ruined  fortunes  and  perhaps 
of  many  tragedies  in  frontier  life. 

We  saw  a  big  dredge  which  had  been  hauled  out  on 
the  bank  of  the  river  because  the  finding  of  gold  by 
dredging  had  been  unprofitable  or  impossible  at  that 
location.  The  spring  and  the  fall  floods  had  piled  up 
sand,  stones  and  floating  snags  around  it,  so  that  it 
was  all  submerged  excepting  the  topmost  parts.  A 
man  on  the  boat  told  us  that  there  were  at  least  twelve 
of  these  derelicts  on  the  river  between  Soda  Creek  and 
Fort  George. 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  193 

The  furnace  of  our  steamer  was  fired  with  pine  wood, 
and  it  took  four  men  to  carry  the  wood  fast  enough 
to  keep  the  steam  up  to  the  proper  notch.  She  draws 
but  two  feet  of  water,  and  another  one  is  being  built 
by  the  same  company  which  will  draw  only  sixteen 
inches.  Her  name  is  to  be  The  City  of  Quesnelle. 

We  made  some  purchases  in  the  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany's store  at  Quesnelle,  and  received  much  valuable 
information  from  Mr.  Collins,  the  manager  in  charge, 
a  man,  by  the  way,  who  looks  like  a  twin  brother  to 
our  friend  Joseph  B.  McCall,  of  Philadelphia,  and  on 
account  of  this  striking  resemblance  he  permitted  us 
to  "  snap  him  with  a  kodak." 

This  gentleman  told  us  that  the  fur  trade  in  this 
district  had  been  seriously  injured  because  of  the  many 
surveying  parties  that  have  been  in  the  wilderness  for 
three  years  past.  These  parties  pay  as  high  as  $3.50 
per  day  to  the  Indian  guides,  and  that  is  so  much  more 
than  they  can  get  by  trapping  that  they  have  abandoned 
their  old  pursuits.  This,  of  course,  is  better  for  the 
fur-bearing  animals,  so  that  "  all's  well  that  ends  well." 

We  now  took  to  the  stage  again  for  a  trip  of  some  sixty 
miles  to  Barkerville,  the  terminus  of  this  famous  stage 
line.  We  had  of  course  fewer  passengers  than  when 
we  started,  because  many  had  gone  on  up  the  Frazer 
Kiver  to  Fort  George,  where  many  people  were  awaiting 
opportunity  of  going  yet  farther  north  to  the  wonderful 
Nechaco  valley.  Here  settlers  are  arriving  from  many 


194  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

parts  of  the  old  world  and  from  "  the  states  "  to  take 
up  and  occupy  the  rich  bottom  lands  in  this  great 
valley.  The  Grand  Trunk  Pacific  Kailroad,  when  com- 
pleted, will  run  through  the  centre  of  this  immense 
tract  of  land,  once  the  bed  of  a  now  dried  up  lake. 

At  one  of  the  stops  we  made  to  change  horses,  the 
man  in  charge  of  the  stable  told  us  of  a  fracas  he  had 
had  the  previous  night  with  a  black  bear  and  two  cubs 
that  had  been  "  a-botherin'  of  "  him  for  many  nights 
past.  He  managed  to  kill  the  mother  bear  and  one  of 
the  cubs,  the  other  one  getting  away.  The  man  was 
much  wrought  up  over  the  incident,  and  had  we  been 
willing  he  would  have  kept  us  for  an  extra  hour  in 
telling  the  story. 

This  portion  of  the  journey  was  very  interesting  in- 
deed. For  many  miles  the  road  led  along  the  side  of  a 
mountain  near  its  top,  and  a  sharp  lookout  had  to  be 
kept  for  teams  coming  from  the  opposite  direction,  as 
the  road  is  but  narrow  and  the  passing  of  teams  at  this 
high  elevation  is  a  ticklish  performance,  with  a  deep 
canyon  on  one  side  and  a  precipitous  mountain  on  the 
other.  In  the  winter  time  occasionally  a  stage — then 
of  course  set  on  runners — slides  over  the  edge  and  down 
into  the  canyon  below  ;  but,  with  deep  snow  on  the 
slope,  there  are  rarely  any  fatalities.  Of  course  there 
will  be  bruises  in  plenty,  broken  harness,  and  perhaps 
damaged  merchandise. 

One  of  the  houses   where  we  stopped   to  change 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  195 

horses  was  presided  over  by  an  aged  Scotchman  and 
his  wife.  The  latter  is  famous  for  her  cooking,  and  the 
meal  she  set  before  us  only  added  to  her  reputation. 
In  an  old  music  book  I  found  a  song  that  I  had  not 
heard  for  nearly  twoscore  of  years,  and  then  it  was 
sung  by  a  dear  sweetheart  of  mine  with  such  pathos 
and  sweetness  that  its  memory  lingers  with  me  still. 
"  My  Mother  Bids  Me  Bind  My  Hair  "  was  the  title. 
Another  old  favorite  was  found  in  the  same  book, 
"kJock  o'  Hazledean."  The  good  dinner,  the  cheery 
talk  of  the  old  Scotch  woman,  and  the  songs  of  bygone 
days  sent  me  away  in  rare  good  spirits  and  with  fond 
memories  that  will  last  for  many  and  many  a  day. 

We  arrived  in  Barkerville  Thursday  night  at  six 
o'clock,  three  hours  late,  caused  by  the  necessity  of 
shoeing  some  horses  and  mending  a  break  in  the  stage. 
Barkerville  is  a  mining  town  pure  and  simple.  All 
frame  houses,  with  sidewalks  about  four  feet  above  the 
level,  varying  in  height  in  different  spots,  with  steps 
leading  down  to  the  street  on  each  side.  This  is  neces- 
sary because  of  the  great  depth  of  snow  in  the  winter. 

The  glory  of  the  town  has  long  since  departed,  as  a 
majority  of  the  formerly  famous  gold  mines  have  been 
worked  out.  In  a  ride  of,  say,  forty  miles  we  saw  a 
number  of  abandoned  mines,  a  very  small  portion  of 
them  having  ever  produced  enough  gold  to  pay  ex- 
penses. Only  two  mines  that  we  saw  were  in  opera- 
tion, one  being  worked  by  three  Chinamen,  and  report 


196  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

said  they  barely  made  a  living  out  of  it.  However  one 
mine  is  being  worked  near  the  town  upon  a  very  large 
scale,  and  the  profits  are  said  to  be  considerably  over  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars  a  year.  There  are  some 
smaller  mines  which  we  did  not  see  that  are  also  pay- 
ing fairly  well. 

We  inspected  one  mine  which  was  to  be  operated  upon 
quite  an  expensive  plan  of  dredging.  We  asked  how 
long  it  had  been  since  work  was  started  upon  it,  our 
informant  saying : 

"  I  have  been  here  four  years,  and  it  was  being  pre- 
pared then." 

"  When  do  you  expect  to  start  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  We  have  sunk  a  vertical  shaft  190 
feet  deep,  and  at  the  bottom  of  that  we  have  dug  and 
blasted  out  another  shaft  220  feet  in  a  horizontal  line. 
We  have  installed  a  big  turbine,  big  walking-beam  and 
all  kinds  of  machinery ;  but  when  we'll  start  no  one 
seems  to  know." 

"  Have  you  taken  out  any  gold  at  all  ?  " 

"  Not  a  dollar's  worth,"  he  replied. 

We  came  to  a  mining  enterprise  with  four  houses 
erected  for  the  officials  of  the  company — a  fine  plant, 
filled  with  machinery  and  every  kind  of  implement  for 
mining,  and  all  of  the  properties  were  closed  up  and 
deserted.  Window  blinds  were  still  shading  the  win- 
dows, the  former  occupants  evidently  thinking  they 
were  not  worth  carrying  away. 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  197 

We  passed  a  lot  of  iron  piping — enough  to  fill  a  large 
field — that  had  been  sent  all  the  way  from  England. 
The  freight  from  the  railroad  to  where  it  lay  was  seven 
cents  per  pound ;  the  freight  on  the  railroad  and  the 
ocean  freight  together  was  fourteen  cents  per  pound, 
and  each  length  cost  $100.  When  the  stuff  arrived 
the  mine  it  was  intended  for  had  been  abandoned,  and 
there  the  pipe  lies  rusting  away  in  the  sun,  rain  and  snow. 

We  outfitted  here  for  our  hunting  grounds.  And 
considering  the  expense  and  time  in  getting  the  mer- 
chandise up  here,  we  were  surprised  that  the  prices 
were  so  moderate. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  note  what  we  took  with  us 
and  what  it  cost,  which  was  as  follows : 

200  pounds  of  flour  @  $10  per  100 $20.00 

3  pounds  tea  @  50  cents  1.50 

8  pounds  whole  coffee  @  50  cents 4.00 

3  boxes  matches  for 25 

10  pounds  salt  @  10  cents  pound 1.00 

100  pounds  bacon  @  30  cents 30.00 

60  pounds  sugar  @  13  cents 7.80 

50  pounds  beans  @  12£  cents 6.25 

25  pounds  rice  @  13  cents 3.25 

20  pounds  butter  @  56  cents 11.20 

1  pound  pepper 50 

4  pounds  candles  @  25  cents 1.00 

1  case  4  dozen  condensed  cream  @  $2.50 10.00 

10  pounds  prunes  @  20  cents 2.00 

10  pounds  dried  apples  @  20  cents 2.00 

20  pounds  lard  @  25  cents .    .  5.00 

5  pounds  cheese  @  25  cents 1.25 

10  pounds  cornmeal  @  12£  cents 1.25 

10  pounds  oatmeal .  1.00 


198  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  total  of  the  bill  was  $114.  In  addition  to  this, 
we,  of  course,  had  to  pay  for  the  packhorses,  five  of 
them,  to  pack  the  stuff  on,  which  cost  twenty  dollars 
more. 

Our  licenses  cost  $100  each,  and  were  the  first  that 
had  been  sold  at  this  government  office  this  season, 
other  people  having  purchased  their  licenses  before 
arriving  here.  The  provincial  and  the  dominion 
officials,  as  well  as  the  leading  business  men,  treated 
us  with  great  courtesy  and  kindness.  One  of  the  men 
we  met — a  Mr.  Bailey,  had  been  educated  in  the  Penn 
Charter  School,  Philadelphia.  He  was  formerly  em- 
ployed as  a  civil  engineer  on  the  Pennsylvania  Eailroad, 
but  he  prefers  the  life  out  here  to  that  in  the  Quaker 
City.  We  were  to  have  left  Barkerville  early  Friday 
morning,  but  the  five  cayuse  horses  which  were  to 
have  taken  us  to  Bear  Lake  strayed  away  during  the 
night  and  it  took  some  hours  to  gather  them  up  once 
more. 

We  had  engaged  five  Siwash  Indians  with  their  five 
ponies  to  "pack "  our  outfit.  But  these  men  took  their 
own  time  for  starting,  and,  although  they  promised 
much,  they  put  off  their  departure  until  the  next  day. 
So  we  ourselves  left  Barkerville  at  1  p.  M.  over  the 
famous  Bear  River  trail.  The  first  eight  miles  were 
over  a  fairly  good  road. 

And  this  we  did  at  a  brisk  trot.  After  that  it  was  a 
ride  over  a  trail  from  two  feet  to  two  feet  six  wide,  up 


OFF  FOR  THE  WILDS  199 

one  side  of  a  mountain  and  down  the  other,  with  two 
places  where  the  trail  went  up  at  an  angle  of  forty- five 
degrees  and  came  down  on  the  other  side  at  even  a 
sharper  pitch,  the  cayuses  frequently  sliding  down  hill, 
that  being  easier  than  walking  and  safer.  The  trail 
passed  through  some  very  thick  underbrush,  at  times 
higher  than  the  horses'  heads.  In  the  tangled  mass 
were  blueberries,  a  few  raspberries,  elderberries,  fire- 
weed,  great  masses  of  wild  rose  bushes  with  scarlet 
seed  pods,  maiden  hair  ferns,  tansy,  sassafras,  purple 
asters,  squaw  pinks,  Queen  Ann's  lace,  etc. 

Bird  life  was  but  poorly  represented.  A  few  yellow 
hammers,  a  species  of  western  bluebird,  a  humming 
bird  and  one  meadow  lark,  with  several  "  fool-hen  " 
grouse,  were  all  that  we  saw.  The  twenty-one-mile 
trail  was  covered  in  a  little  over  six  hours,  and  we  were 
all  happy  when  it  was  finished. 

So  here  we  are,  safe  and  sound,  more  than  4,000 
miles  from  home,  in  the  wildest  and  roughest  kind  of 
country,  amid  wonderful  scenery,  bracing  air  and, 
thank  God,  a  cloudless  sky,  a  warm  sun,  plenty  of 
provisions,  clothing,  ammunition,  firearms  and  cameras 
— everything,  in  fact,  to  please  and  to  satisfy  both 
mind  and  body.  To-morrow — aye,  to-morrow — we'll 
be  off  for  adventures  new  in  the  "  great  unknown." 


CHAPTER  XIX 
SPEARING  SALMON  IN  THE  NORTHWEST 

THE  Siwash  Indians  with  their  packhorses,  carrying 
our  outfit,  having  failed  to  turn  up  on  Friday  night, 
the  next  morning  we  were  speculating  as  to  whether 
they  would  come  at  all,  and  if  they  did,  would  the 
dunnage  bags  be  brought  in  with  their  contents  safe 
and  sound? 

However,  the  great  salmon  "  run  "  was  on  and  it  was 
an  interesting  sight,  and  after  breakfast  we  spent 
some  time  in  watching  the  brilliant  scarlet-coated  sock- 
eyes,  with  their  green  heads  and  tails — this  being  their 
nuptial  color — and  the  huge  "  spring  salmon  "  working 
along  the  gravelly  bottom  to  the  outlet  of  Bear  Lake 
which  was  but  a  few  hundred  yards  from  the  camp. 

It  is  against  the  law  nowadays  to  spear  salmon,  but 
our  supplies  not  having  arrived,  and  the  need  of  some- 
thing to  eat  being  a  fitting  excuse,  we  thought  we 
might  try  to  secure  three  or  four  of  the  royal  fish. 
The  first  thing  that  happened  furnished  us  with  the 
most  ludicrous  sight  I  ever  witnessed. 

Dr.  W.  K.  Roe,  one  of  our  pair  of  "  Falstaffs,"  after 
watching  the  fish  for  some  time,  went  to  the  camp  and 
removed  part  of  his  clothes.  He  then  put  on  a  cotton 


SPEARING  SALMON  201 

undershirt  without  sleeves  and  cotton  drawers  reaching 
to  his  knees,  and  thus  appareled  he  waded  into  the  cold, 
swift-running  water,  armed  with  a  spear  with  a  single 
barb. 

As  the  fish  dodged  his  clumsy  efforts  to  spear  them 
he  soon  became  wonderfully  excited,  and  made  rush 
after  rush  at  them,  until  in  one  of  his  "  long-distance  " 
stabs  he  went  head  over  heels  into  a  deep  pool. 

When  he  came  up  he  was  more  in  earnest  than  ever, 
and  as  he  was  a  good  swimmer  he  laughed  at  the  mis- 
hap of  the  deep  hole. 

"  W.  J.,"  his  brother,  the  other  Falstaff  of  the  party, 
after  laughing  until  the  tears  ran  down  his  face  at  his 
brother's  antics,  removed  his  clothes  also,  put  on  a  union 
suit  of  dark  gray  underwear,  and,  obtaining  a  three- 
pronged  spear,  likewise  waded  in. 

With  the  first  or  second  thrust  at  the  agile  salmon  he 
also  tumbled  into  a  deep  hole,  where  the  stream  was 
extra  swift  and  strong.  He  did  not  appear  for  a  minute 
or  more,  and  then  we  saw  him  swimming  upon  his 
back,  holding  the  pole  of  the  spear  with  one  hand  and 
acting  more  like  an  eight-year-old  boy  than  a  dignified 
and  sedate  Philadelphia  surgeon. 

W.  E.  Hughes,  the  third  doctor  of  the  party,  had 
been  busy  taking  snapshots  of  the  two  doughty  spear- 
men from  the  bank,  and  he  likewise  laughed  until  his 
sides  ached,  as  mine  did  also.  He  disappeared  for  a 
while,  and  when  we  saw  him  once  more  he  was  garbed 


r 

202  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

in  the  same  suit  that  Adam  wore  when  Mother  Eve 
first  made  his  acquaintance  in  the  Garden  of  Eden. 

No  fig  leaf  or  cotton  or  gauze  or  union  suit  under- 
wear for  "  W.  E." ;  no,  siree.  They  would  only  be  an 
impediment  to  him,  and  so  the  man,  who  had  braved  the 
terrors  of  a  winter  in  the  Arctic  regions  as  scientist 
with  Peary's  first  expedition  in  search  of  the  North 
Pole,  was  the  first  and  perhaps  the  only  man  who  ever 
attempted  to  spear  salmon  in  the  Bear  River  without 
some  garment  to  modify  the  coldness  of  the  icy  waters. 

I  have  been  writing  of  "  spearing  "  salmon,  but  for  an 
hour  or  more  their  fierce  lunges  only  ended  in  an  oc- 
casional ducking,  as  the  fish  were  too  nimble  for  them. 

But  hold !  Listen  to  the  yell  and  the  paean  of  victory 
from  "  W.  R.,"  who  at  last  has  pierced  a  sock-eye 
salmon  through  and  through  with  his  one  pronged  spear. 
Bearing  his  trophy  aloft,  he  paraded  up  and  down  the 
river  in  his  thin  underwear,  taunting  his  brothers  in 
medicine  with  his  success  and  their  repeated  failures. 
But,  listen  again  !  There's  a  cry  of  joy  from  "  W.  J.," 
who  was  "  jabbing  "  at  the  fish  down  the  river,  and  he 
also  held  a  sock-eye  aloft,  but  we  had  seen  an  ex- 
hausted salmon  drifting  down  the  river,  and  this  three- 
fourths  dead  fish  he  had,  indeed,  run  his  spear  through, 
so  his  "  kill  "  was  not  allowed  and  we  wouldn't  let  it 
count. 

Finally,  all  three  "  caught  on  "  to  the  curves  neces- 
sary to  strike  the  fish  fair  and  square,  and  each  man 


SPEARING  SALMON  203 

landed  at  least  a  pair  of  sock-eye  salmon,  brilliant  of 
color,  agile  as  squirrels,  but  alas !  poor  in  flesh  and  ut- 
terly devoid  of  flavor. 

After  lunch,  the  four  of  us,  actuated  by  the  same 
motive  of  obtaining  sleep  and  rest  from  the  grueling 
trip  over  the  Bear  Lake  trail  of  the  day  before,  found 
our  way  to  a  big  circular  tent,  and  there  we  slept 
soundly  for  a  couple  of  hours.  Kibbee,  our  guide  and 
host,  suggested  to  me  that  he  and  I  should  go  down  the 
river  for  three  or  four  miles,  and  see  if  there  were  any 
bear  signs,  and  then  we  also  could  see  the  spawning 
grounds  of  the  salmon,  which  were  strung  out  for 
over  a  mile  on  the  gravelly  bottom  of  the  river. 

We  saw  a  few  signs  of  black  bear  on  the  sandy  points 
at  the  sharp  curves  of  the  river  as  we  went  down. 
The  signs  did  not  appeal  to  me  at  all,  for  I  was  in  the 
presence  of  one  of  the  most  tragical  illustrations  of  the 
truth  that  nature's  first  consideration  is  imperatively 
the  reproduction  of  the  species. 

Here  we  saw  thousands  upon  thousands  of  spring 
salmon,  the  males  averaging  nearly  thirty  pounds  each 
in  weight,  plunging,  diving  and  "  side-stepping  "  each 
other  in  their  savage  efforts  to  protect  the  precious 
spawn. 

Every  one  who  has  seen  the  plunging  of  porpoises  on 
the  seacoast  can  have  a  faint  idea  of  the  scene  which 
we  witnessed  if  he  will  multiply  the  few  porpoises  thus 
seen  by  a  hundred  or  more.  Remember,  too,  that  the 


204  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

salmon  is  many  times  swifter  in  his  movements  than  the 
leisurely  porpoise,  and  some  idea  may  be  obtained  of 
the  sight  which  greeted  us.  The  water  was  like  a  boil- 
ing cauldron — splash,  splash,  splash !  the  fish  were 
jumping  in  every  direction. 

It  seems  that  as  soon  as  the  female  commences  the 
process  of  depositing  the  spawn  on  the  gravelly  spot, 
which  she  and  her  male  partner  have  scooped  out,  then 
a  predatory  male  makes  a  rush  to  eat  or  destroy  the 
precious  eggs,  while  her  male  gives  valiant  battle  in  the 
effort  to  protect  them.  When  the  male  has  fertilized 
the  roe  eggs  by  spraying  a  fluid  called  the  "  milt  "  over 
them,  the  seemingly  never-ending  battle  waxes  fiercer 
than  ever. 

In  this  melee  we  saw  some  big  fish  literally  skinned 
alive.  On  many  of  them  the  dorsal  fin  was  either  eaten 
off  or  torn  off,  the  tail  nipped  off  almost  to  the  bone, 
and  numbers  of  fish  were  gashed  and  eaten  so  badly 
in  the  furious  fighting  that  they  gave  up  the  ghost  and 
died. 

In  one  particular  spot  eight  big  fellowrs  were  all  so 
earnestly  fighting  that  they  paid  no  attention  whatever 
to  our  boat  as  it  floated  down  the  river,  and  its  prow 
passed  through  the  fighting  mass,  separating  the  com- 
batants forcibly.  Looking  back  at  them  after  we 
passed,  we  saw  them  at  it  again.  It  was  a  fight  to  the 
finish. 

Strangest  of  all  is  it  that  this  fighting  does  not  cease 


SPEARING  SALMON  205 

even  at  night-time.  No  wonder,  then,  that,  when  the 
fateful  task  of  spawning  is  over,  they  all  die — every  one, 
male  and  female  alike.  The  future  of  the  species  is 
then  bound  up  in  the  destinies  of  the  eggs  which  they 
have  given  their  lives  to  produce. 

We  went  down  the  river  three  miles  looking  at  the 
signs  of  bear  on  the  sand-bars  at  the  edges  of  the 
stream,  then  turned  and  poled  back,  arriving  at  camp 
in  time  for  supper.  Here  we  learned  that  two  of  our 
doctors,  "W.  E.  Hughes  and  W.  R.  Roe,  with  a  guide, 
had  undertaken  to  cross  the  river  in  a  boat.  W.  R., 
the  stout  one,  in  some  way  shifted  his  position  in  the 
boat  amid  stream,  and  over  the  boat  went,  tumbling 
them  all  into  the  water.  As  they  were  all  swimmers, 
they  got  out  safely,  but  had  that  happened  in  a  lake  a 
different  story  might  have  been  told. 

The  Siwash  Indians  and  their  packhorses  arrived 
with  our  supplies  and  dunnage  a  little  before  dark. 
The  stuff  came  over  the  rough  trail  without  any  dam- 
age whatever.  Their  horses  were  turned  out  to  graze, 
and  one  of  them,  a  youth  of  ten  years,  rolled  his  trou- 
sers up  over  his  knees,  and  with  a  single-pointed  spear 
waded  into  the  water  of  the  river  up  to  his  middle  to 
spear  salmon. 

His  father,  an  old,  dried-up  Indian,  smiled  with  de- 
light as  he  told  me :  "  He  catch  um  tree  fish.  He  quick, 
good  boy.  He  ride  pony  stand  up  " — that  is,  bareback. 
They  were  to  receive  two  cents  a  pound  for  their  work 


206  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

in  u  packing  "  our  supplies.  Two  hundred  pounds  is 
the  limit  that  they  will  load  on  one  of  their  horses,  and 
if  the  load  weighs  any  less  than  that,  no  allowance  is 
made. 

It  therefore  required  five  horses  carrying  two  hun- 
dred pounds  each,  at  $4  per  head,  and  their  total 
freight  bill  was  $20.  In  the  olden  days,  when  "  grub  " 
was  "  packed  "  on  the  Indians'  backs  hundreds  of  miles, 
the  freight  on  flour  or  sugar  was  $1  a  pound  and  on 
potatoes  and  turnips  a  half  dollar  more.  One  man 
made  considerable  money  by  spearing  salmon  in  the 
fall  near  where  our  cabin  stands,  then  salting  them 
down,  and  on  the  snow  taking  them  over  the  trail  to 
Barkerville  on  dog-sleds  and  selling  them  at  $1  and 
$1.25  apiece. 

A  stove  which  warms  Kibbee's  kitchen,  and  on 
which  all  the  cooking  is  done,  cost  $47  to  bring  over 
the  trail  only  three  years  ago,  and  that  without  count- 
ing his  time  and  labor  in  helping  to  drag  it  on  a  sled. 
To-day  a  loaf  of  bread  in  Barkerville  is  two  bits  (twen- 
ty-five cents). 

In  Quesnelle,  on  the  Frazer  Eiver,  I  saw  a  box  of 
raisins  opened  on  a  shelf  in  a  grocery  store.  Although 
a  year  old,  they  looked  to  be  in  good  condition,  so  I 
asked  the  proprietor  to  weigh  me  out  a  pound. 

Then  I  asked  him  how  much.  "  Four  bits "  (fifty 
cents)  was  the  laconic  answer.  In  Barkerville  there  is 
no  single  article  priced  at  less  than  "  two  bits  "  except- 


SPEARING  SALMON  207 

ing  postage  stamps,  and,  of  course,  the  government  sees 
to  it  that  they,  at  any  rate,  shall  be  sold  at  the  face 
value. 

It  can  easily  be  imagined  that  the  mails  must  neces- 
sarily carry  a  great  deal  of  freight,  as  the  cost  of  one 
cent  per  ounce  up  to  four  pounds  in  weight  enables  a 
large  assortment  of  different  kinds  of  merchandise  to 
be  forwarded  in  the  very  quickest  time  at  the  minimum 
postal  rate. 

For  instance,  I  mailed  in  Philadelphia  to  a  friend  in 
Cottonwood,  near  Barkerville,  two  packages,  each 
weighing  two  pounds  eight  ounces,  and  they  went 
through  safely  at  a  total  cost  of  eighty  cents.  Our 
government  must  have  lost  some  money  upon  them ; 
but  see  what  the  Canadian  Postal  Department  must 
have  lost  taking  into  consideration  the  three  hundred- 
mile  stage  route  over  which  the  packages  had  to  go. 

But  there's  another  side  to  the  problem  of  values  up 
here.  The  wages  of  working  men  in  the  mines  in 
Barkerville  and  vicinity  are  $4.50  per  day,  and  Kibbee 
pays  $7.50  per  day  to  the  guides  he  uses  for  our  con- 
venience, and  we  furnish  the  provisions  into  the 
bargain. 

This  is  the  tenth  day  of  September,  and,  as  I  am 
writing,  Henry,  the  cook,  is  shelling  green  peas  and 
washing  the  most  tender  and  delicious  lettuce  any  one 
could  wish  for,  both  grown  in  a  little  plot  near  the 
bank  of  the  river.  It  is  pouring  rain,  and  the  rain  may 


208  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

last  for  several  days ;  then  the  men  predict  a  sudden 
freeze-up,  and,  presto!  the  long,  long  winter  will  be 
upon  them. 

Last  winter  the  thermometer  went  to  fifty-two  de- 
grees below  zero,  and  the  snow  near  Barkerville  was 
over  seven  feet  deep ;  so  that  winter  away  up  here 
means  something  more  than  a  picnic.  It  means  long, 
cold  nights,  with  little  daylight,  plenty  of  stars  over- 
head and  a  scarcity  of  heat  from  the  all-powerful  sun 
god. 

We  left  Bear  Lake  camp  early  on  Sunday  morning, 
our  flotilla  consisting  of  three  boats,  a  house-boat, 
manned  by  two  men,  to  carry  the  provisions  and  outfit. 
The  other  two  boats  carried  three  men  each,  two  sports 
and  one  guide. 

The  day  was  fine,  and  as  this  was  the  real  beginning 
of  our  hunting  trip  it  stirred  my  blood  to  feel  that  first 
jump  of  the  boat  as  Kibbee,  the  guide,  pushed  off  from 
the  landing.  How  quickly  the  camp  was  left  behind  ! 
Now  all  was  before  us — a  new  country,  a  virgin  forest, 
new  lakes,  new  rivers,  new  waterfalls,  new  mountains. 
Nothing  old,  yet  how  very  old,  but  all  new  to  us. 

This  trip  is  to  be  for  us  a  recreation — we  are  going 
to  tease  the  unknown — "  what  is  fresh  and  new  in  na- 
ture is  great,  divine."  We  are  seeking  adventure. 
The  healthy  imagination  is  a  daredevil,  a  pick-lock,  a 
break-bolt.  In  all  ages  adventure,  the  great  motive 
for  all  we  do,  has  been  loved  for  itself.  There  is  a 


SPEARING  SALMON  209 

north  pole  at  each  man's  door  that  invites  the  spirit  of 
adventure.  Each  human  being  has  a  trail  to  make  for 
himself. 

"  Routine  starves  body  and  soul,  and,  in  its  deadly 
clutch,  we  begin  to  measure  the  days  of  life  on  the 
walls  of  consciousness  like  men  condemned  to  death, 
who  chalk  the  passing  of  the  days  on  the  walls  of  their 
cells  that  finally  fetch  them  to  the  rope  and  trap-door." 

We  are  now  afloat,  healthy  and  free,  the  world  of 
adventure  before  us,  the  humdrum  work  of  office  and 
of  shop  behind  us.  So,  farewell  for  a  period  to  the 
trivialities  of  life,  its  fashions,  its  vagaries  and  its  artifi- 
cial delights.  We  are  about  to  enjoy  the  perennial 
passion  of  living  in  the  open,  dreaming  or  thinking  of 
nothing  but  what  every  new  day  may  bring  to  us  be- 
fore its  precious  hours  have  departed. 

Renewing  our  youth  by  rugged  exercise,  expanding 
our  lungs  with  air  untainted  by  sulphurous  smoke,  we 
feel  like  shouting  out  with  Walt  Whitman :  "  Oh,  for 
the  open  road ! " 

Our  way  lay  through  Bear  Lake  and  up  the  upper 
Bear  River  to  a  stream  which  empties  out  of  Swan 
Lake.  Here  was  the  first  of  Kibbee's  trapping  camps 
after  leaving  his  home  camp.  At  the  mouth  of  the 
lake,  stuck  up  on  the  side  of  this  camp,  was  a  piece  of 
cardboard,  on  which  was  written  a  notice  that  at  the 
point  where  we  entered  Swan  Lake  stream,  fresh  meat 
would  be  found  ready  for  use.  This  was  signed  by  a 


210  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

fish,  commissioner,  who  was  on  a  tour  of  inspection  look- 
ing for  a  good  place  for  a  hatchery  for  sock-eye  salmon. 

Kibbee  and  I  paddled  down  and  found  the  cache, 
which  contained  two  fore  quarters  and  a  hind  quarter  of 
a  young  moose.  After  eating  lunch,  our  party  was 
split  up,  Drs.  "  W.  J."  and  "  W.  K"  going  with  a  cook 
and  two  guides  up  to  Swan  Lake  to  look  for  moose, 
while  Dr.  "  W.  E."  and  the  writer  started  for  a  cabin 
nine  miles  further  up  Bear  Kiver,  where  we  hoped  to 
catch  sight  of  a  grizzly  bear. 

In  the  other  party  was  a  polished,  gentlemanly  look- 
ing young  man,  who  was  acting  as  bow  poleman  for 
the  house-boat.  Thinking  him  to  be  one  of  the  guides 
and  desiring  to  become  acquainted  with  them  all  as 
soon  as  possible,  I  said  to  him,  "  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

In  place  of  telling  me  his  given  name,  he  gave  me 
his  family  name. 

I  then  said,  "  You  and  I  both  come  from  the  same 
country." 

"  I  came  from  Norfolk,  England,"  he  replied. 

We  had  some  further  talk,  in  which  he  said  he  ex- 
pected to  spend  the  winter  on  Bear  Lake,  and  that  he 
would  go  home  by  way  of  the  Pacific.  I  advised  him 
to  cross  the  continent  and  visit  Philadelphia,  in  which 
case  I  would  be  glad  to  do  the  honors  for  him  in  the 
Quaker  City.  He  impressed  me  so  much  by  his  modest 
and  unassuming  manners,  his  earnest  desire  to  do  all  of 
the  work  that  was  to  be  done,  and  by  his  choice  Ian- 


SPEARING  SALMON  211 

guage,  that  after  parting  from  him.  I  asked  Kibbee  who 
and  what  he  was. 

"  Well,  you  see,  he  came  to  Barkerville  and  wanted 
some  place  to  go  where  he  would  be  among  big  game 
and  where  he  could  learn  how  to  handle  boats  and 
traps,  cut  wood  and  do  frontier  work  generally.  He 
was  referred  to  me,  and  I  told  him  what  I  would 
charge  him  per  day,  and  that  he  could  stay  as  long  as 
he  liked  and  leave  when  he  liked ;  that  I  might  be 
away  a-lookin'  after  my  traps  a  month  or  two  months 
at  a  time  and  he  would  be  left  alone. 

"  He  just  smiled  and  said  that  wouldn't  worry  him  a 
bit,  so  I  said : 

" '  Well,  I  want  to  know  all  about  you  before  we 
hitch  up  together.'  Then  he  gave  me  his  name,  and  it 
was  *  Lord '  something  or  other. 

"  So  I  goes  to  a  friend  of  mine  in  Barkerville  and 
tells  him  all  about  it.  So  he  says:  'If  you'll  wait, 
I'll  look  up  the  English  "  stud  "  book,  and  if  he's  the 
real  thing,  he'll  be  in  it.' 

"So  he  gets  the  book  and  runs  up  one  page  and 
down  another  and,  sure  enough,  there  was  his  name, 
all  right. 

"You  see,  my  friend's  name  is  also  in  the  'stud' 
book,  so  he  knew  all  about  him.  When  he  lighted  on  his 
name  he  read  about  his  people  who  lived  long  before 
him.  I'll  tell  you  this ;  he's  a  willin'  worker  and  isn't 
afraid  of  any  kind  of  work,  although  he's  not  overly 


212  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

strong.  He's  good  company,  doesn't  have  much  to  say 
and  all  of  us  like  him." 

We  reached  our  second  stopping  place  at  dark,  after 
a  nine-mile  push  up  the  river.  The  current  was  so 
swift  that  the  pole  had  to  be  used  all  of  the  way  up. 
The  sand  beaches  on  the  sides  of  the  river  bore  the  im- 
prints of  grizzly  bears'  feet,  and  most  of  them  were 
fresh.  A  few  moose  tracks  were  visible  where  they 
had  crossed  the  river,  and  beaver  tracks  and  musk 
mounds  were  very  plentiful. 

Kibbee  says  that  on  these  musk  mounds,  built  of 
small  gravel  stones,  the  beavers  squeeze  out  their  ex- 
cess of  the  substance  which  is  called  musk.  This  musk 
is  valuable,  and  is  used  in  the  manufacture  of  perfumes 
and  in  medicines,  and  brings,  according  to  demand  and 
quality,  $4.50  to  $16  per  pound. 

It  is  contained  in  a  sack,  and  its  trade  name  is  "  cas- 
torium."  Trappers  have  found  out  that  they  can  set  a 
beaver  wild  by  removing  a  portion  of  his  mound — as 
each  beaver  has  its  own — and  putting  in  a  little  oil  of 
aniseed  and  a  few  drops  of  rum. 

The  beaver  realizes  the  first  thing  that  here  is  a 
strange  "  musk,"  because  he  knows  his  own  musk  too 
well  to  believe  that  the  strange  odor  is  his.  He 
evidently  thinks  some  other  beaver  has  done  this  to 
spite  him,  so  he  gets  mad  all  through  and  tears  his 
whole  mound  down  and  builds  a  new  one. 

In  doing  this  he  gets  so  reckless  that  he  forgets  his 


SPEARING  SALMON  213 

usual  caution,  and  steps  into  the  trap  which  has  been 
set  for  him.  There's  a  close  time  now  on  all  beavers 
south  of  the  Blackwater  Eiver,  and  in  consequence 
many  are  the  beaver  skins  shipped  as  being  from  north 
of  the  Blackwater,  whose  owners  were  never  within 
three  hundred  miles  of  that  famous  beaver  district. 

I  told  of  the  capsizing  of  a  boat  with  Drs.  "W.  E. 
Hughes  and  W.  E.  Eoe  in  it.  Dr.  Hughes  treated  the 
ducking  with  indifference,  and  did  not  change  his  wet 
clothes  for  dry  ones.  As  a  consequence,  when  we  sat 
down  to  our  rude  meal  in  the  trapper's  cabin,  he  had 
no  appetite  and  complained  of  a  sore  throat  and  cold 
in  his  head. 

In  the  morning  his  pulse  had  increased  twenty  beats, 
and  he  felt  bad  enough  to  say  that  he  would  stay  in 
bed  all  day,  and  starve  it  out.  However,  I  prevailed 
upon  him  to  take  a  cup  of  soup,  made  from  lentils. 

In  spite  of  his  protests,  Kibbee  and  I  took  the  boat 
and  paddled  down  to  the  Swan  Lake  camp.  There  we 
found  that  W.  J.  Eoe  and  W.  E.  Eoe  >ad  not  yet 
started  for  their  next  camp.  We  therefore  had  dinner 
together,  and  taking  a  couple  of  bottles  of  medicine,  we 
poled  up-stream  again,  making  the  camp  at  7 : 30  p.  M. 

Dr.  Hughes  was  much  better  as  a  result  of  his  en- 
forced rest,  and  also  from  his  refraining  from  food.  As 
to  the  medicines — while  he  thanked  us  for  bringing 
them,  he  declined  their  use,  saying  that  as  he  was  a 
doctor,  he  didn't  take  medicine. 


214  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Frank  D.  Kibbee,  our  mentor,  guide  and  host,  by 
this  time  had  shown  us  that  he  was  all  that  his  friends 
claimed  for  him.  Every  one  whom  we  met  on  the 
journey  to  Barkerville  gave  him  unstinted  praise,  and 
after  reaching  that  far-famed  town,  we  received  the 
same  reports  from  hotel  men,  miners  and  business  men 
with  whom  we  talked. 

In  his  own  domain  he  is  "  the  boss."  As  a  trapper, 
hunter  and  guide,  it  is  hard  to  beat  him. 

He  was  born  in  Montana  forty-two  years  ago,  and 
from  his  earliest  boyhood  he  has  always  been  a  trapper. 
He  drifted  out  here  ten  years  back  and  commenced 
trapping,  and  was  successful  from  the  beginning.  It's 
an  awfully  lonely  place  now,  and  was  more  so  then. 

He  tried  to  get  an  assistant  or  some  man  whom  he 
could  trust  to  look  after  his  main  camp  and  his  pelts 
while  he  was  making  the  round  of  his  traps.  His 
ground  covers  over  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  of 
good  trapping  country,  over  which  he  claims  the  right 
to  trap.  He  must  be  a  rugged  man  to  go  over  this 
territory,  set  the  traps  and  look  after  them  properly, 
skin  the  trapped  animals  and  prepare  them  for  ship- 
ment to  London,  where  they  are  sold  at  the  annual  fur 
sales. 

As  an  assistant  would  have  to  be  out  in  all  kinds  of 
weather  and  always  to  look  out  for  his  own  food 
supply,  it  will  be  seen  that  it  would  be  no  easy  job  to 
get  any  one  willing  to  undertake  the  position. 


SPEARING  SALMON  215 

Kibbee  considered  himself  very  fortunate  in  securing 
the  services  of  a  squaw,  who  was  a  good  cook  and  a 
clean  housekeeper,  who  could  trap  and  shoot  almost 
as  well  as  he  could,  who  climbed  the  highest  moun- 
tains with  him  after  mountain  goats  or  bears,  and  who 
conducted  herself  with  such  decorum  as  to  be  received 
courteously  by  the  families  in  Barkerville  with  whom 
Kibbee  was  acquainted. 

She  was  with  him  for  a  period  of  six  years,  and  then 
a  yearning  for  a  more  nomadic  life  took  possession  of 
her  and  she  drifted  away.  Then  he  took  in  an  old 
man  of  seventy,  more  out  of  charity  than  anything 
else,  and  he  stayed  with  him  for  over  four  years, 
Kibbee  clothing  him  and  keeping  him  in  comfort. 
Then  the  old  fellow  left. 

Now  he  has  another  old  man  of  seventy,  who  cooks 
and  looks  after  his  various  interests  with  rare  fidelity. 

In  the  winter  time  this  man,  Kibbee,  with  blanket, 
bait,  bacon,  axe,  skinning  knife,  matches,  and  a  few 
pounds  of  flour  on  a  hand  sled,  trudges  forward  through 
the  wilderness.  The  northern  lights  glow  in  the  dis- 
tance and  it  is  bitterly  cold,  but  cold  makes  finer  fur. 
Down  far  trails  in  gloomy  forests,  across  the  breasts 
of  silvered  streams,  he  labors  from  trap  to  trap. 
Should  he  find  fifty  dollars'  worth  of  fur  along  the 
whole  line  of  the  traps  he  is  content. 

Meat  is  what  the  trapper  mostly  lives  upon — meat 
of  different  kinds  and  of  different  degrees  of  tough- 


216  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ness  or  tenderness.  Whether  it  is  moose,  deer,  caribou, 
rabbit,  woodchuck,  goose,  duck  or  the  tail  of  beaver,  it 
matters  little  so  that  it  be  meat. 

To  see  Kibbee  clean  up  a  frying-pan  half  full  of 
moose  steak  would  be  an  object  lesson  to  a  city  man, 
who  with  childish  appetite  nibbles  at  a  bit  of  steak  and 
must  have  it  covered  with  sauce  or  ketchup  or  mush- 
rooms to  make  it  palatable  and  appetizing. 

But  there  must  also  be  some  fruit  or  vegetable  food 
to  help  keep  away  the  scurvy  during  the  long  winter 
night.  Hence  a  few  pounds  of  dried  apples  or  of 
prunes  should  be  on  the  trapper's  sled  thus  to  aid 
digestion. 

When  he  starts  out  in  the  late  fall  the  curtain  of 
silence  cuts  him  off  from  the  fellowship  of  the  Barker- 
ville  trail  for  many  moons,  once  he  lifts  the  curtain  of 
that  ghostly  woodland.  It  is  paddle  and  portage  for 
days  and  weeks  as  he  visits  lake  after  lake,  pond  after 
pond,  and  river  after  river.  Then  the  frost  crisps 
into  silence  the  foaming  water  and  the  lapping  lake. 
The  grind  of  running  ice  warns  him  it  is  time  to  change 
birch  bark  for  moccasin  and  snow-shoe.  The  canoe  is 
cached,  and  the  trail  strikes  into  the  forests  of  Douglas 
fir  and  of  white  and  yellow  birch. 

When  he  returns,  leaves  may  be  budding  on  the 
birches  and  on  the  willow  bushes. 

Once,  and  only  once,  the  awful  loneliness  of  the 
deep  forests  overcame  Kibbee's  nerve,  and  he  threw 


SPEARING  SALMON  217 

his  traps  into  the  swift  running  waters  of  the  lower 
Bear  River  and  back  to  Montana  he  went ;  but  six 
months  of  civilization  were  enough  for  this  man  of  the 
woods,  mountains,  and  lakes,  and  back  he  came  to  his 
traps  and  stretching  frames. 

He  lifted  his  traps  from  the  bottom  of  the  river, 
joyfully  went  the  rounds  of  his  trapping  lines,  setting 
the  traps  as  he  went,  and  now  he  will  be  a  "  child  of 
Nature  "  until  an  all- wise  Providence  calls  him  to  his 
own  last  cache,  which  in  all  probability  neither  graven 
stone  nor  wooden  sign  will  mark. 


CHAPTER  XX 
WATCHING  FOR  BRUIN 

IN  the  ascent  of  the  Upper  Bear  Eiver,  as  far  as  the 
first  camp,  the  bear  signs  were  to  be  seen  upon  every 
sandy  marge  of  the  river.  Some  were  old,  but  many 
were  so  fresh,  and  particularly  those  of  one  big  grizzly, 
that  we  were  keyed  up  to  the  highest  point  of  expec- 
tation. 

In  rounding  one  sharp  turn  in  the  stream  we  came 
suddenly  upon  a  flock  of  thirty  wild  geese  feeding  on 
some  tall  green  grass.  Although  we  had  a  .22  rifle 
and  two  45-90's,  we  did  not  shoot,  as  we  were  in 
search  of  bear  and  not  of  geese,  and  the  shooting 
would  undoubtedly  alarm  the  bears  if  within  hearing. 
One  old  gander  among  the  geese  gave  the  note  of 
alarm,  and,  with  much  honking,  they  were  soon  away 
up  in  the  air  and  off  for  pastures  new. 

We  spent  a  night  at  the  first  camp  and  heard  noth- 
ing and  saw  nothing  of  game  of  any  kind.  In  sight  of 
the  door,  and  seemingly  but  a  short  distance  away, 
were  too  great  snow-capped  mountains.  We  were  told 
that  although  "  so  near  they  Avere  yet  so  far,"  as,  be- 
fore the  summit  could  be  reached,  twelve  miles  would 
have  to  be  covered. 


WATCHING  FOR  BRUIN  219 

Weather,  time  and  other  circumstances  permitting, 
our  scientist,  W.  E.  Hughes,  purposed  to  climb  the 
nearest  one  in  search  of  mountain  goats  and  bears. 
We  left  our  boat  a  mile  and  a  half  above  our  first  camp 
on  the  Upper  Bear  Kiver,  and  next  day  made  a  "  hike  " 
through  a  trail  unique  in  the  quality  that,  of  all  sorts 
of  bad  ground  to  travel  over,  this  trail  oifered  three 
distinctly  bad  types. 

The  first  was  through  the  so-called  brush,  which,  out 
here,  means  the  everlasting  willow  bushes.  They  are 
not  so  high  as  the  alders,  but  are  thicker  and  harder  to 
get  through,  slapping  the  water  or  dew  upon  your  neck, 
face  and  body  with  every  step  you  make. 

Next  came  five  miles  of  open  bog-land — called  here 
a  "park,"  where  the  foot  goes  down  generally  into 
water  over  your  ankles,  and  at  times  over  your  knees. 
This  is  interspersed  with  hummocks,  where  you  have 
to  jump  from  one  to  another  of  them,  and  if  you  miss 
your  footing,  you're  up  almost  to  your  middle  in  oozy 
mud. 

After  this  delectable  stretch  comes  a  couple  of  miles 
of  burnt  land,  on  which  the  logs,  lying  in  every  direc- 
tion, impede  your  progress,  while,  if  the  morning  be 
wet  and  your  footwear  slippery,  then  you'll  find  the 
logs  also  slippery,  the  bushes,  snags  and  roots  tantaliz- 
ing, and  you'll  surely  slide  and  fall  many  times  before 
you're  over  the  burnt  land. 

We  took  four  and  a  half  hours  to  cover  the  eight 


220  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

miles,  and  when  we  came  to  the  little  8x8  cabin  we 
were  really  very  glad.  Although  we  had  had  numer- 
ous falls  by  the  way,  we  were  still  unhurt.  This  cabin 
had  not  been  visited  by  any  human  being  so  far  as  we 
knew  since  the  previous  spring. 

It  is  the  farthest  cabin  on  the  Bear  River  used  by 
Kibbee  in  his  trapping.  A  sheet-iron  stove  and  a  bunk 
is  all  the  cabin  contains,  although  outside  we  saw  a 
good  collection  of  traps  stored  up  ready  for  this  com- 
ing season's  work. 

The  object  of  this  particular  trip  was  to  hunt  the 
grizzly,  if  we  could  find  any  of  these  animals  willing 
to  be  hunted,  or  even  to  be  seen.  We  were  tired  look- 
ing at  tracks  on  the  sandy  marges  of  the  river,  and  we 
hungered  for  a  sight  of  the  real  uiwis  horribilus — this 
being  the  scientific  name  of  our  much  respected  old 
friend,  the  grizzly. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  before  the  cabin  came  into  sight, 
we  crossed  several  bear  trails,  worn  down  deep  by  the 
big  fellow  who  had  been  carrying  salmon  back  from 
the  river  to  cache  them ;  but  every  few  yards  we  would 
see  where  he  had  sat  down  and  eaten  a  salmon,  leav- 
ing only  the  bony  head  and  the  tail  to  show  the  diet  he 
was  living  upon.  The  bank  of  the  river  at  and  near 
the  cabin  is  fifteen  feet  high  and  almost  precipitous. 

Well-worn  trails  lead  from  the  river  to  the  crest  of 
the  bank,  and  were  made  by  the  bear  scooping  out  steps 
to  climb  up  by.  The  top  of  the  bank  was  actually 


WATCHING  FOR  BRUIN  221 

covered  with  salmon  heads,  fins  and  tails,  where  the 
big  eater  had  sat  down  to  devour  his  catch.  The 
stench  from  these  decaying  portions  of  the  fated 
salmon  was  very  bad ;  and  the  myriads  of  bluebottle 
flies,  mosquitoes,  black  flies,  midgets  and  bulldog  flies 
drawn  to  the  locality  by  this  salmon  feast  were  some- 
thing truly  appalling. 

The  guide  said  the  bear  signs  were  good,  and  his 
plan  of  attack  upon  the  wary  beast  was  to  post  a  man 
at  each  end  of  the  crescent,  which  is  here  made  by  the 
river ;  the  third  man  was  to  take  his  position  in  the 
centre. 

The  half  circle  thus  covered  with  three  rifles  would 
be  in  length  perhaps  five  hundred  yards,  and  no  one  of 
the  party  would  be  in  danger  of  the  bullets  from  either 
of  his  fellows  by  reason  of  the  conformation  of  the 
ground.  We  did  not  make  a  fire  by  which  to  prepare 
supper,  as  the  smoke  would  be  scented  far  and  near  by 
our  expected  and  much-hoped-for  prey. 

A  cold  lunch  was  hastily  eaten,  and  eacfr  man  went 
to  his  appointed  post.  W.  E.,  on  account  of  his  cold, 
was  stationed  near  the  cabin  at  the  head  of  the  cres- 
cent. Kibbee  selected  a  stump  in  the  middle  of  the 
river  at  the  foot  of  the  crescent,  and  the  writer  was 
posted  in  the  middle  of  the  half  circle,  where  he  could 
"  catch  them  coming  or  going."  To  do  this  he  should 
have  been  equipped,  like  Janus,  with  an  eye  in  the 
back  of  his  head  as  well  as  one  in  front. 


222  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

We  were  to  sit  the  night  out  and  not  to  stir  until 
the  morning  sun  had  dispelled  the  mists  and  clouds 
that  hung  around  the  tops  of  the  snow-clad  mountains. 

According  to  the  plan,  the  writer  reached  his  watch- 
tower  at  4 : 10  P.  M.,  and  the  situation  was  something 
like  this :  The  stream  above  could  be  covered  with 
the  eyes  for  one  hundred  yards ;  below,  for  not  more 
than  forty  yards.  On  the  other  side  of  the  river  was  a 
sandy  beach,  with  a  background  of  willow  brush. 

The  place  selected  as  offering  the  best  chance  for  a 
shot  was  on  top  of  the  bank,  which  here  was  twenty 
feet  high.  The  bear,  if  he  came,  would  have  to  come  in 
sight  from  the  front,  which  was  the  upper  end  of  the 
curve ;  or  from  the  left,  through  the  screen  of  willows 
across  the  river;  or  from  the  right,  which,  of  course, 
was  the  mainland. 

In  the  river  below,  the  salmon  were  thrashing  the 
water  as  violently  as  ever,  and  this  interminable  fight 
was  kept  up  all  night  long,  making  it  extremely  diffi- 
cult to  hear  any  other  sounds  but  those  made  by  them. 
None  of  us  had  any  blankets  with  him,  or  overcoats. 
We  had  been  sweating  freely  from  the  difficulties  of 
the  eight-mile  flounderings,  and  we  hardly  realized  what 
a  change  in  the  temperature  the  night  would  produce. 

The  writer  put  on  a  woolen  bathing  suit  and  a 
sweater- vest.  He  also  had  a  piece  of  sail-cloth  to  use 
as  a  cover,  if  perchance  it  should  rain. 

Kibbee  mounted  his  resting  place  on  the  stump  with- 


WATCHING  FOR  BRUIN  223 

out  any  extra  clothing  whatever,  and  suffered  very 
much  in  consequence. 

About  five  o'clock  in  the  evening  several  strong 
currents  of  hot  air  passed  down  the  valley  of  the  river, 
but  they  were  followed  by  currents  of  very  cold  air 
from  the  snow-capped  mountains. 

At  six  o'clock  a  slight  rain-storm  varied  the  monotony 
of  the  vigil.  A  fish-hawk  alighted  upon  a  tree  to  our 
right,  and  his  shrill  cries  kept  up  until  darkness  en- 
shrouded us  all.  A  bald  eagle  slowly  flew  from  a  tall 
dead  fir  across  the  river,  and  alighted  on  the  top  of  a 
big  spruce,  where  he  must  have  passed  the  night,  as 
we  saw  him  fly  from  the  same  tree  the  next  morning. 

The  night  was  cloudy,  and  at  times  completely  shut 
out  all  of  the  stars  which  up  here  are  most  wonderfully 
bright  and  appear  much  larger  than  in  the  East. 
Venus  gave  out  very  nearly  as  much  light  as  the 
moon,  which,  when  she  finally  made  her  appearance 
through  the  fleeting  shadowy  clouds,  was  but  at  half 
her  full  size. 

Before  entering  the  brush  at  the  side  of  our  tryst, 
the  guide  had  pointed  out  to  us  marks  upon  a  tree 
made  by  a  monster  grizzly,  who,  standing  upon  his 
hind  feet,  had  with  his  claws  scratched  his  sign  manual 
on  the  bark.  The  marks  were  so  high  above  our  heads 
that  they  gave  us  a  better  idea  of  the  stature  to  which 
these  big  brutes  attain  than  anything  else  could  have 
done. 


224  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  winged  insect  pests  were  something  terrible. 
Never — no,  never  had  we  been  so  persecuted  by  insects 
as  we  were  upon  this  night.  We  all  had  knowledge  of 
what  the  mosquito,  the  midget  and  the  black  fly  can 
do,  when  they  are  at  their  best ;  but  W.  E.  Hughes 
and  the  writer,  here  for  the  first  time,  met  the  "  bull- 
dog "fly  of  the  northwest,  and  our  word  for  it,  he's 
most  rightly  named. 

He  makes  no  fuss,  gives  no  warning  like  the 
mosquito  kindly  gives  you  as  she  buzzes  around  you 
in  the  quiet  stillness  of  the  night,  nor  does  he  come 
with  a  rush  like  the  bluebottle  fly,  which  on  this  night 
made  a  noise  like  a  babel  of  voices ;  but  stealthily  he 
alights  on  the  back  of  your  neck,  or  the  upper  part  of 
your  wrist,  or  in  your  beard,  and  you  feel  him  not  on 
his  landing.  He  waits  quietly  until  he  gets  his  famous 
"  underhold,"  and  then — then — you  feel  him,  and  try 
to  "  shoo  "  him  away,  but  like  his  namesake  of  the  dog 
tribe,  he  won't  be  shooed.  So  you  slap  him  or  brush 
him  away,  but  he  gives  up  his  very  life  with  his  bite, 
for  he  will  not,  and  does  not,  let  go  until  he's  killed. 

He  is  something  akin  to  the  plant,  which  for  the 
first  time  we  saw  here,  that  goes  by  the  charming 
name  of  the  "  devil's  club."  It  grows  to  the  height  of 
a  man's  head,  is  rounded  off  like  a  palm  leaf  at  the  top, 
sways  to  the  passing  wind,  and  loves  the  society  of  its 
fellows,  for  there's  always  many  of  them  growing 
together. 


WATCHING  FOR  BRUIN  225 

They  seem  to  delight  in  dark,  dense  woods  where 
the  ground  is  covered  with  deep  moss  and  the  side  hills 
littered  with  rotting  and  storm-struck  timber.  As  you 
brush  the  "  devil's  club  "  aside  you  realize  that  he  is 
"  armed  to  the  teeth  "  with  thorns  upon  thorns.  You 
may  have  your  eye  scratched  out,  your  ear  torn  or 
your  nose  lacerated.  If  you  are  a  church-member  in 
good  standing,  you  certainly  will  not  swear  aloud, 
but  you  will  breathe  and  think  "  cuss "  words  with 
every  step  you  make  among  them. 

The  persecution  of  the  insects  became  so  unbearable 
at  last  that  at  ten  o'clock  we  pulled  the  friendly  piece 
of  sail-cloth  over  our  head.  As  it  was  not  large 
enough  to  cover  head,  shoulders  and  body,  together 
with  the  hands,  one  of  which  must  surely  rest  upon  the 
trusty  rifle,  we  fought  the  pests  from  our  hands  and 
wrists  by  fanning  the  air  at  all  times.  And  this,  per- 
haps, may  account  for  the  only  incident  that  happened 
during  the  night  to  relieve  the  long-continued  strain  of 
watching  and  of  listening. 

At  half-past  ten  we  heard  a  couple  of  branches 
break  directly  upon  our  right  in  the  woods,  where  the 
big  fellow  had  stood  up,  and,  brave  fellow  as  he  was, 
had  made  his  mark  away  up  on  that  old  spruce  tree. 

What  could  have  made  the  branches  break  so 
stealthily,  so  silently,  with  no  other  following  sounds 
to  give  us  a  chance  to  interpret  the  cause  thereof  ? 
Naturally,  this  made  us  sit  up  and  think.  And  our 


226  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

conclusions  were  that  there  could  be  no  other  cause 
than  the  silent  coming  of  a  bear.  Therefore  we 
listened  more  intently  than  ever  before  in  our  "  most 
eventful  history,"  because,  if  it  were  an  "  ursus 
horribilus"  on  one  side,  here  was  the  swift-running 
river  on  the  other,  and  what  might  not  happen  if  his 
"  horribleness  "  only  gently  pushed  us  over  the  bank 
into  the  cauldron  of  fighting  salmon  below  ? 

The  minutes  sped  on  and  nothing  happened  until, 
say,  eleven  o'clock  had  arrived,  and  then  came  five 
ponderous  blows  on  the  ground,  struck  by  some 
animal  of  enormous  strength,  apparently  directly  in 
the  spot  where  the  branches  had  been  broken  a  half 
hour  before.  Now  if  ever  a  rifle  was  grasped  quickly 
and  a  piece  of  sail-cloth  thrown  off  rudely,  both  of 
these  feats  were  performed  by  us  in  a  jiffy. 

With  hammer  pulled  back  ready  for  business,  and 
with  bated  breath,  we  waited  for  a  solution  of  the 
mysterious  knocks.  However,  the  waiting  was  in 
vain,  for  none  came. 

In  the  following  long  hours  before  daylight,  we  had 
ample  time  to  ponder  over  them,  and  we,  of  course, 
imagined  many  "  vain  things " ;  among  others  was 
this :  If  his  majesty — because  none  other  than  he  could 
have  given  such  an  exhibition  of  power  and  strength- 
had  forgotten  his  usual  caution  and  had  made  an  attack 
from  the  rear,  how  could  the  rifle  have  been  aimed 
with  any  certainty  in  the  dim  and  fitful  light  of  the 


WATCHING  FOR  BRUIN  227 

half  moon,  which  at  least  once  in  every  five  minutes 
was  obscured  by  passing  clouds?  At  best  it  would 
have  been  sort  of  a  gamble,  with  perhaps  a  fatal  shot, 
and  perhaps  only  a  broken  leg,  as  at  such  close  quarters 
he  must  surely  have  received  one  or  more  bullets  into 
him  before  the  fight  was  over  one  way  or  the  other. 

The  longest  night  will  surely  pass  if  we  but  wait 
long  enough,  and  our  night  was  slowly  passing. 

After  midnight  the  weather  turned  very  cold  indeed, 
and  the  discarded  sail-cloth  was  again  put  in  requisi- 
tion. When  the  first  faint  glow  appeared  in  the  east- 
ern sky,  a  tiny,  piping  note  came  from  a  little  water 
ousel  in  the  willow  brush  across  the  river. 

The  fish-hawk  and  the  bald  eagle  both  were  early 
risers,  and  away  they  started  in  search  of  their  break- 
fasts. Some  crows,  who  had  roosted  in  a  bunch  of 
Douglas  firs,  flew  slowly  down  from  their  wooded 
heights  to  the  banks  of  the  river  to  feed  on  the  car- 
casses of  the  dead  salmon,  which  lined  both  banks  of 
the  running  stream. 

Then  we  heard  a  bright,  cheerful  greeting  of  "  good- 
morning  "  from  our  scientist,  who  had  shown  the  best 
judgment  of  the  three,  because  he  had  hunted  out  the 
warm  shelter  of  the  cabin  at  9 : 30  the  night  before 
and  had  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just  until  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  He  was  accordingly  rested  and  happy. 
Kibbee  was  heard  from  a  short  time  afterward,  and  his 
story  was  soon  told. 


228  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

He  had  sat  on  the  stump  in  the  middle  of  the  river 
until  nearly  midnight,  until  the  cold  drove  him  from 
his  perch  into  the  willow  brush,  and  the  penalty  he 
paid  for  not  being  more  warmly  clad  was  a  bad  cold, 
which  afflicted  him  for  many  a  day  afterward. 

He  had  seen  nothing,  heard  nothing  and  smelled 
nothing  but  the  decaying  bodies  of  the  dead  salmon. 
He  soon  gave  me  a  solution  of  the  mysterious  sounds  I 
had  heard.  The  noise  of  the  breaking  branches  was 
indeed  made  by  the  grizzly.  He  had  then  got  our  scent 
and  perhaps  more  than  once  had  raised  himself  to  his 
hind  feet  and  had  looked  us  over  and  over  again,  and 
then  to  satisfy  his  curiosity  he  had  struck  the  blows 
with  one  of  his  powerful  feet  to  attract  our  attention 
and  to  see  if  there  was  life  in  the  object  that  he  had 
scented  and  stalked  to  his  cover. 

As  the  blows  had  had  the  desired  effect  of  stirring 
the — to  him — strange  and  dreaded  animal  which  we 
call  man  into  life  and  action,  he  had  seen  enough,  and 
as  silently  as  he  came  he  loped  away  to  his  lair  to  laugh 
in  his  own  clumsy  fashion  at  how  he  had  outwitted  one 
of  the  tribe  of  his  most  dreaded  foes. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  LONE  BULL  OF  SANDY  LAKE 

IT'S  a  remarkable  cluster  of  lakes  that  encircles  a 
group  of  mountains  in  the  region  of  the  Bear  River — 
most  of  them  snow-clad — with  short  stretches  of  run- 
ning water  pouring  down  between  the  rugged  eleva- 
tions, and  thus  connecting  the  lakes  in  a  formation  re- 
sembling the  shape  of  an  egg. 

Bear  Lake  forms  the  small  end,  while  Isaac's  Lake, 
forty  miles  long,  bounds  the  territory  on  the  north,  with 
Swan  Lake,  Little  Lake,  Three-Mile  Lake,  Spectacle 
Lake,  Sandy  Lake  and  Long  Lake  and  one  or  two  more 
completing  the  semicircle.  The  distance  from  Bear 
Lake  to  the  outlet  of  Indian  Point  Lake,  into  the  lower 
Bear  River,  is,  roughly  speaking,  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles. 

Our  guide,  Kibbee,  controls  the  trapping  rights,  by 
purchase  mostly,  of  this  big  patch  of  mountains,  lake 
waters  and  running  streams,  with  the  exception  of 
Isaac's  Lake,  where  an  old  Scotchman  by  the  name  of 
Kenneth  McCloud  claims  possession.  McCloud  is  now 
eighty-four  years  old,  and  is  the  only  human  being  on 
Isaac's  Lake. 

He  has  become  feeble  and  does  not  bring  out  the 


230  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

amount  of  fur  that  he  formerly  did.  He  does  not  seem 
to  relish  company  very  much,  unless  the  visitor  brings 
him  a  "  bottle  "  ;  and  in  that  case,  he's  given  a  hearty 
reception.  He  has  not  been  seen  by  any  one  since  last 
June,  when  he  visited  Barkerville. 

Kibbee  built  a  cabin  on  the  upper  end  of  Isaac's  Lake 
some  years  since,  and  also  a  boat.  The  next  time  he 
visited  the  lake  the  canny  Scot  called  at  the  cabin  to 
tell  him  that  his  boat  had  been  smashed  by  a  big  storm 
during  his  absence ;  but  Kibbee  found  more  signs  of 
destruction  by  human  hands  than  those  made  by  a 
storm.  The  incident  was  a  forcible  suggestion  that  in- 
truders were  not  wanted  on  that  particular  sheet  of 
water. 

It  is  just  possible  that  on  some  future  visit  to  the  lake 
the  old  Scotchman's  bones  may  be  found  whitening  in 
his  cabin.  He  has  been  living  the  life  of  a  recluse  up 
there  for  forty- three  years,  coining  to  the  outskirts  of 
civilization  once,  and  sometimes  twice,  in  a  year  to  dis- 
pose of  his  furs  and  get  his  "  bottle  "  and  supplies,  and 
then  to  return  to  his  wilderness  home. 

We  had  planned  to  make  a  portage  of  four  miles  from 
a  small  lake,  called  McCleary's  Lake,  over  to  Isaac's 
Lake,  striking  the  latter  lake  fifteen  miles  from  its  head. 
We  would  then  build  a  raft,  and,  after  visiting  Mc- 
Cloud,  paddle  and  pole  to  the  end  of  Isaac's  Lake, 
where  we  would  take  a  trail  of  sixteen  miles  for  Indian 
Point  Lake,  and  this  would  bring  us  within  seven  miles 


THE  LONE  BULL  OF  SANDY  LAKE     231 

of  Bear  Lake,  at  our  main  camp,  but  a  rain  that  seemed 
never  ending,  and  which  lasted  for  over  three  weeks, 
upset  all  of  our  plans,  and  we  had  to  give  up  the 
project. 

The  next  plan  was  a  trip  to  a  spot  called  "  The  Iron 
Slough,"  pronounced  "  slew,"  where  caribou  and  moose 
were  said  to  be  very  plentiful.  Up  to  this  time  it  had 
been  found  impracticable  to  hunt  bear  from  the  fact 
that  the  brush  which  everywhere  lines  the  river  had 
not  been  thinned  out  by  frost.  This  formed  an  impen- 
etrable screen,  behind  which  the  bears  could  come  and 
go  at  will,  so  that  the  human  eye  could  not  obtain  a 
glimpse  of  them. 

The  only  possible  chance  was  to  come  upon  one  una- 
wares, while  he  might  be  crossing  the  river,  or  walking 
along  the  edge  of  some  sandy  beach,  at  a  sharp  turn  of 
the  stream.  We  were  out  at  daylight  and  stayed  until 
dark,  day  after  day,  and  five  times  we  stayed  out  all 
night,  but  not  a  solitary  bear  had  we  seen,  although 
tracks  were  provokingly  plentiful  wherever  a  sandy 
point  appeared. 

So  now  the  caribou  was  to  be  our  quarry.  We, 
therefore,  left  Bear  River  and  paddled  over  to  Swan 
Lake,  where  we  spent  the  afternoon  and  night.  Dr. 
W.  E.  Hughes  and  the  writer  made  a  circuit  of  the  lake 
and  saw  many  mallard  ducks  and  some  wild  geese.  We 
heard  coyotes  yelping  in  the  woods,  and  afterward  saw 
two  of  them  away  off  on  the  shore.  One  stood  watch- 


232  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ing  us  intently,  and  when  I  stooped  to  pick  up  my  rifle 
it  was  off  to  the  woods  like  a  flash. 

On  the  following  morning  we  crossed  Swan  Lake 
against  a  strong  head  wind,  and  then  we  came  to  Spec- 
tacle Lake,  so  called  because  there  are  two  oval  sheets 
of  water  joined  by  a  jutting  piece  of  land,  which  looks 
like  the  bridge  of  a  pair  of  spectacles.  Here  we  fought 
the  head  wind  until  we  could  go  no  further,  as  we  were 
in  danger  of  swamping.  We  pulled  for  the  shore,  built 
a  fire,  cooked  a  bit  of  moose  steak,  and  this,  with  some 
boiled  rice,  made  for  us  a  sufficient  lunch. 

The  wind  subsided  somewhat,  and  for  a  while  we  had 
easier  going,  but  on  nearing  the  end  of  the  lake  it  blew 
up  fresh  again,  and  the  boat  made  but  little  headway 
in  spite  of  our  earnest  work  with  the  paddles. 

So  it  was  a  dubious  problem  whether  we  could  get 
across  or  not,  when  we  saw  a  boat  coming  toward  us 
with  one  man  paddling.  He  turned  in  behind  a  point 
of  land,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came  out  again. 

As  this  action  looked  somewhat  strange,  we  won- 
dered what  it  meant,  and  as  the  canoe  came  nearer  to 
us  we  saw  that  a  white  cloth  or  sheet  covered  some- 
thing in  the  centre  of  the  boat.  Kibbee,  when  he  saw 
this,  gave  out  one  of  his  rough  and  ready  ejaculations : 

"  My  God,"  he  said,  "  it's  '  Al,'  and  he's  bringing  out 
a  gutshot  man."  Then  we  thought  of  our  fellow 
hunters  who  were  occupying  the  cabin  at  the  far  end 
of  the  lake,  and  imagined  many  things  that  might  have 


THE  LONE  BULL  OF  SANDY  LAKE     233 

happened.  When  the  canoes  met,  the  problem  was 
easily  solved,  as  the  sheet  was  a  piece  of  sail-cloth  which 
covered  some  fresh  moose  meat  that  "  Al  "  was  bring- 
ing out  to  us. 

Here  "Al"  took  Dr.  Hughes  into  his  canoe  and 
turned  back  with  us.  Our  boat,  relieved  of  the  weight 
of  the  scientist,  enabled  us  finally  to  make  the  shore. 
We  found  that  Dr.  W.  E.  Eoe  had  actually  seen  a  bear, 
and  the  bear  had  really  seen  him,  and,  to  be  absolutely 
sure  about  the  matter,  he — the  bear — had  risen  on  his 
hind  legs  and  looked  at  the  doctor  out  of  the  corner 
of  his  eye,  then  he — the  bear — dropped  to  all  fours  and 
loped  away.  Dr.  Koe  didn't  shoot  for  two  reasons- 
first,  because  he  thought  the  bear  would  come  nearer, 
which  he  didn't,  and,  next,  because  he  thought  he  was 
too  far  away  to  make  an  effective  shot. 

The  two  doctors  had  been  interested  with  the  com- 
pany of  a  mining  prospector  who  had  a  claim  on  a  creek 
six  miles  away,  which  he  was  trying  to  develop  into  a 
full-fledged  gold  mine.  As  this  man,  some  years  back, 
had  discovered  one  of  the  best-paying  mines  in  the 
Barkerville  territory,  his  experience  and  knowledge 
were  entitled  to  much  respect. 

The  following  morning  we  left  the  other  half  of  the 
party  to  wrestle  with  the  problem  of  getting  a  shot  at 
that  most  particular  bear.  We  crossed  Little  Lake,  about 
one-half  of  which  is  taken  up  by  a  great  beaver  meadow, 
and  through  this  meadow  a  channel  not  over  eight  feet 


234  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

wide  twists  and  turns  until  the  opposite  shore  is 
reached.  Then  follows  a  portage  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  yards,  and  when  we  had  carried  over  this 
distance  and  dragged  the  boat  over  the  skids,  we  en- 
tered Three-Mile  Lake,  which  was  crossed  against  an- 
other hard  head  wind. 

At  the  end  of  this  lake  was  a  portage  of  thirty  feet, 
which  brought  us  to  a  winding  brook.  Launched  on 
this  stream,  we  speedily  found  that  it  was  the  home  of 
many  beavers.  These  industrious  animals  had  no  fewer 
than  five  new  dams  across  the  stream  in  the  length  of 
a  mile,  and  there  were,  in  addition,  several  old  and 
abandoned  dams  into  the  bargain. 

In  going  over  these  dams  it  was  necessary  to  tear 
their  tops  off  before  we  could  get  the  boat  through. 
While  this  was  tedious  work,  yet  it  was  nothing  to 
what  we  had  to  do  on  our  return  to  surmount  these 
selfsame  dams,  which  in  the  meantime  the  beavers  had 
repaired,  because  then  it  was  all  up-hill. 

From  this  beaver  brook  we  ran  into  Swamp  River, 
and  here,  for  the  first  time  on  this  trip,  we  came  in 
touch  with  a  glacial  river,  for  the  water  is  of  a  grayish, 
clay-like  color  and  is  really  the  drainage  from  ice- 
capped  mountains. 

Two  miles  below,  the  river  falls  over  a  cataract  sixty 
feet  high  and  we  could  hear  its  roaring  distinctly,  but 
we  hadn't  the  time  to  spare  to  paddle  down  to  see  it 
and  then  force  our  way  back  again  against  the  swift 


THE  LONE  BULL  OF  SANDY  LAKE     235 

current,  so  we  went  ashore  and  cooked  and  ate  lunch. 
Near  where  we  sat  Kibbee  pointed  out  a  standing  tree 
that  was  chopped  off  at  the  top,  and  his  explanation  of 
this  unusual  feature  was  like  this : 

"  You  see,  me  and  the  woman  was  a-comin'  down 
from  Sandy  Lake  cabin  with  a  load  of  fur,  when  we 
seed  a  lynx  up  in  the  top  of  that  thar  tree;  we 
couldn't  make  it  out  what  he  was  a-doin'  up  there,  and 
he  looked  so  still-like  to  me  that  I  didn't  shoot  at  him. 
So  I  goes  over  to  the  tree,  and,  sure  as  guns,  he  was  up 
thar  dead ;  he  had  got  caught  in  one  of  my  traps  and 
had  drug  the  trap  up  the  tree,  and  got  so  tangled  up 
with  the  chain  that  he  died  and  was  left  hanging  thar. 
So  I  climbs  the  tree,  cuts  off  the  top  and  down  he 
comes,  and  his  hide  fetched  me  $22,  because  lynx  fur 
is  high  now  on  account  of  them  autemobil  fellows  who 
need  so  much  fur." 

A  four-mile  paddle  up-stream  brought  us  to  Sandy 
Lake.  On  the  right-hand  side  as  we  passed  in  we  made 
out  a  small  moose,  apparently  a  yearling,  walking  on  the 
beach,  but  we  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  him,  he  was 
too  little.  Four  and  a  half  miles  more  and  we  came  to 
where  the  Swamp  River  flows  into  Sandy  Lake  from 
Long  Lake.  It  was  now  getting  dark,  as  the  sun  al- 
ready had  sunk  behind  a  big  mountain,  the  topmost 
snow-clad  peak  of  which  towered  some  thousands  of 
feet  above  the  timber  line. 

Kibbee,  with  his  sharp  eyes,  discerned  an  object  up 


236  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

the.  cove  toward  Long  Lake  that  looked  like  a  big  bull 
moose.  Our  scientist  focused  his  field-glasses  upon  it, 
but  on  account  of  the  oscillation  of  the  boat,  which  pre- 
vented him  from  seeing  plainly,  he  pronounced  it  a  log. 

It  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  bull  caribou,  and  at  last, 
when  it  moved,  we  all  came  to  the  same  conclusion — 
that  it  was  indeed  a  caribou  bull.  But  what  a  big  fel- 
low he  was!  None  of  us  had  before  seen  anything 
alive  like  him  in  size. 

He  was  close  to  a  mile  from  us,  standing  on  the  shore 
of  a  cove,  feeding  at  a  "  lick  "  that  served  to  whet  the 
appetite  at  times  of  both  moose  and  caribou. 

The  shape  of  the  letter  "  Y  "  will  give  an  idea  of  our 
position.  The  bull  was  at  the  left  point  of  the  "  Y," 
and  we  were  at  the  base  of  it.  A  bit  of  jutting  land 
ahead  of  us  was  the  right  point. 

We  paddled  as  fast  as  we  could  to  the  point  of  land 
in  front  of  us,  which  shut  us  out  entirely  from  the  view 
of  our  quarry.  Here  I  asked  Dr.  Hughes  to  take  his 
rifle,  and  make  a  "  try  "  for  him,  but  he  insisted  that 
the  honor  of  stalking  and  perhaps  shooting  the  first  big 
game  should  belong  to  the  writer. 

As  no  time  could  be  wasted  in  argument,  Kibbee  and 
I  started  off  as  fast  as  our  legs  could  carry  us,  right  up 
the  side  of  a  hill  clothed  with  deep,  soft  moss  and  en- 
cumbered by  a  great  deal  of  fallen  timber. 

The  light  was  fading,  and  our  footing  was  anything 
but  sure,  as  we  plunged  over  logs  and  dodged  under 


THE  LONE  BULL  OF  SANDY  LAKE     237 

dead  branches.  We  both  had  "  bellows  to  mend  "  be- 
fore the  journey  was  half  over.  Three  times  we  left 
the  ridge,  and  went  down  near  to  the  water. 

The  first  view  we  had  of  the  bull  through  the  trees 
showed  us  that  he  was  even  a  larger,  finer  specimen 
than  we  had  realized  when  seen  from  the  boat.  The 
second  time  we  neared  the  water's  edge,  he  was  just 
entering  the  dense  woods,  and  only  his  rump  was  vis- 
ible. The  third  time  he  was  out  of  sight  altogether. 

We  still  "  plugged "  on,  panting  and  blowing  like 
horses  pulling  a  heavy  load  up-hill.  Soon  we  came  in 
sight  of  a  little  cove  with  a  large  log  lying  at  the  back 
of  it,  and  this  seemed  a  good  cover  behind  which  to 
hide. 

When  we  got  to  the  log  our  feelings  may  be  im- 
agined upon  seeing  that  the  bull  had  again  come  out  of 
the  woods,  and  was  placidly  looking  in  our  direction. 
I  waited  just  a  minute  or  two  to  get  quieted  down,  as 
my  heart  was  pumping  like  a  trip-hammer.  Kibbee 
said  the  distance  was  two  hundred  yards,  although  an 
examination  next  day  showed  it  to  be  over  three  hun- 
dred, but  the  fading  light  was  so  deceptive  that  I 
thought  I  had  better  shoot  for  the  top  of  his  back. 

Taking  as  steady  aim  as  I  could  for  the  upper  part 
of  the  shoulder,  the  bullet  sped  on  its  way.  But  it  was 
a  clean  miss.  As  it  did  not  strike  the  water,  I  thought 
perhaps  it  had  gone  under  him,  so  I  elevated  a  little 
more  and  fired ;  but  still  no  hit. 


238  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  bull  could  not  make  out  where  the  sound  came 
from,  and  turned  completely  around  and  walked  back 
into  the  entrance  of  his  trail,  leaving  only  his  hips  ex- 
posed. Kibbee  whispered,  "Wait;  he'll  come  out 
again."  And  that  he  did  very  soon. 

He  now  stepped  rather  confidently  along  for  a  few 
yards ;  then  stopped  to  listen.  I  fired  in  rapid  succes- 
sion four  more  shots  without  a  hit,  the  bull  turning 
twice  while  this  wild  firing  was  going  on. 

I  started  shooting  with  four  cartridges  in  the  maga- 
zine of  the  rifle  and  one  in  the  chamber ;  and  these 
having  been  expended,  I  took  one  out  of  my  vest 
pocket. 

When  this  was  fired  I  was  horrified  to  find  that  my 
cartridges  were  apparently  all  gone,  and  yet  the  big 
fellow  was  still  standing  there,  wondering,  no  doubt, 
where  all  the  thunder  and  lightning  were  coming  from. 
By  now  it  was  dusk.  A  hurried  search  in  the  hip 
pocket  of  my  trousers  brought  forth  the  seventh  and 
last  cartridge ;  and  once  more  taking  aim  in  the  gath- 
ering darkness,  the  bullet  hit  him  fairly  and  squarely, 
and  down  and  over  he  rolled. 

Then  we  heard  a  shout  of  exultation  from  Dr. 
Hughes,  who  had  crept  up  by  way  of  the  shore  and 
was  now  close  behind  us.  He  had  seen  every  shot  as 
it  was  fired  and  it  was  his  judgment  that  I  had  been 
firing  too  high  altogether,  and  that  the  shooting  made 
him  think  of  the  battle  of  San  Juan. 


THE  LONE  BULL  OF  SANDY  LAKE    239 

When  we  gathered  around  the  fallen  prize  each  of 
us  said  he  would  likely  never  again  see  his  equal  in 
size,  shape  and  bulk.  We  opened  and  dressed  him  as 
quickly  as  possible  ;  and  following  the  shore  back  to 
the  boat  again,  we  reached  the  Sandy  Lake  cabin  at  a 
quarter  past  eight.  Fire  was  made  without  delay,  a 
pot  of  soup  boiled  and  eaten,  and  with  much  talk  over 
the  recent  excitement  we  lay  down  to  rest. 

I  say  to  rest — for  my  mind  was  so  full,  with  its  re- 
hearsal of  the  run  up  the  ridge  and  through  the  woods ; 
of  the  fall  head  over  heels  from  a  log  down  an  incline 
and  into  some  brush  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  depres- 
sion ;  of  a  stumble  from  striking  a  root  with  the 
right  foot  and  going  face  and  head  into  the  spongy 
mass  ;  of  the  rapid  shooting  and  of  the  search  for  the 
very  last  cartridge,  and,  finally,  of  the  result  of  the 
successful  shot,  that  u  sleep,  blessed  sleep  "  was  not  for 
me  until  the  early  morning  hours  had  long  been  passed. 

The  following  morning  we  went  over  and  skinned 
the  bull  and  took  some  measurements.  His  antlers 
had  a  spread  of  thirty-eight  inches ;  the  longest  prong 
measured  forty  inches  from  tip  to  head,  inside  measure- 
ment, and  forty-two  inches  outside. 

After  the  hide  was  removed  his  bare  neck  measured 
forty-six  inches  ;  and  some  idea  may  be  obtained  of  his 
bulk  when  it  is  known  that  the  fat  which  lay  upon  his 
back  and  sides  measured  by  the  tape  line  two  and  a  half 
inches  in  thickness. 


240  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

We  saved  some  of  the  meat  and  all  of  the  fat  to 
take  with  us  on  our  journey  to  the  Iron  Slough.  We 
buried  the  feet  and  more  of  the  meat  in  the  cold  glacial 
water,  placing  some  stones  over  them  to  keep  them 
from  the  coyotes  during  our  absence. 

We  hung  the  hide  over  a  willow  bush  to  dry, 
skinned  the  head  and  took  it  out  into  the  water  and 
fastened  it  to  a  log,  so  that  the  porcupines  could  not 
touch  it,  while  the  balance  of  the  carcass  we  left, 
together  with  some  of  the  meat,  for  the  other  half  of 
the  party,  who  were  to  follow  within  a  day  or  two. 

Thus  was  the  old  adage  that  "the  unexpected 
always  happens  "  once  more  exemplified. 

For  eleven  days  we  had  been  looking  in  all  the 
likely  places  to  find  big  game.  We  had  been  up  and 
out  at  likely  hours  in  the  morning  and  at  likely  hours 
at  night.  We  had  covered  in  this  period  of  time  over 
sixty-eight  miles  of  boating  and  had  seen  not  a  single 
living  head  of  game  of  any  kind,  excepting  a  small 
deer  which  we  shot,  and  that  was  unexpectedly  seen 
at  the  base  of  a  mountain,  where  one  would  least  look 
for  it,  and  yet  here,  away  from  his  tribe  and  kindred 
— all  alone — this  big  lone  bull  of  Sandy  Lake  was 
discovered  within  a  very  few  minutes  of  dusk,  stalked 
and  killed.  No  wonder  we  were  exultant  and  excited 
beyond  measure  at  the  final  unlooked-for  result. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  "  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA  " 

ON  the  morning  succeeding  the  killing  of  the  lone 
bull  of  Sandy  Lake,  we  left  for  the  Iron  Slough. 
Our  route  led  up  Swamp  River  to  the  mouth  of  Long 
Lake  and  up  that  notable  sheet  of  water  until  we 
emerged  once  more  into  Swamp  River,  twelve  miles 
above.  It  seemed  that  we  were  destined  to  have 
nothing  but  head  winds,  as  when  we  entered  Long 
Lake  it  was  blowing  directly  in  our  teeth. 

This  lake  is  nothing  more  than  a  widening  and 
deepening  of  Swamp  River,  flanked  on  both  sides  by 
mountains  of  the  first  magnitude — not  one,  or  two,  or 
three,  but  crowded  in  as  thick  and  as  close  as  the 
twelve  miles  will  permit.  They  seem  to  be  of  every 
form,  all  of  them  covered  with  snow  at  the  peaks  and 
at  least  three,  perhaps  four,  carrying  the  weight  of 
great  glaciers. 

We  camped  opposite  one  which  was  the  exact 
prototype  in  shape  of  Cheops,  the  famous  pyramid  in 
Egypt.  The  sides  and  faces  of  each  and  every  one 
were  scarred  and  seamed  with  the  traces  of  snow 
avalanches,  which  had  cleared  the  ground  in  their 
paths  of  rocks  and  trees  as  clean  as  if  swept  with  a 
giant  steel  broom. 


242  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  following  season  after  the  avalanche  had  fallen, 
fresh  vegetation  would  spring  up,  making  a  green  streak 
of  growing  brush,  trees  and  herbage,  all  very  pleasing  to 
the  eye.  These  streaks  reached  from  the  base  of  the 
mountains  to  the  top  of  the  timber  line.  Fire  has 
ravaged  most  of  these  grand  sentinels  of  northern 
British  Columbia  of  their  thick  growth  of  trees,  but  this 
brings  its  own  reward,  for  nature  with  her  lavish 
generosity  soon  clothes  the  burnt-over  ground  with  a 
lusty  growth  of  green  herbage  which  gives  rich  suste- 
nance to  mountain  goats,  caribou,  moose  and  deer  and  to 
such  smaller  animals  as  the  whistling  marmot  and  the 
rabbit ;  and  among  the  birds,  the  ptarmigan,  the  blue 
grouse,  the  "  fool "  hen  and  the  willow  grouse. 

Where  such  game  abounds,  there,  of  course,  will  lurk 
the  fierce  animals  that  prey  upon  it.  Up  near  the 
timber  line  the  grizzly  and  black  bears  find  food  suit- 
able for  their  wants.  The  fur-bearing  marten  finds  in 
the  many  squirrels  plenty  of  food  for  his  appetite. 
The  lynx  likes  the  taste  of  the  rabbit,  as  does  the  eagle, 
the  owl,  the  wolverine,  the  coyote,  the  weasel  and  the 
timber  wolf. 

Poor  bunny  has  a  hard  road  cut  out  for  him.  He 
has  more  blood-thirsty  enemies  than  any  other  animal 
under  the  blue  canopy  of  the  skies.  It  may  be  that  he 
was  originally  designed  to  furnish  food  for  so  many 
different  species,  and  for  this  reason  he  was  made  the 
most  fecund  of  all  animals,  the  female  giving  birth  to 


"  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA  "     243 

five  litters  of  four  young  rabbits  each  during  the  five 
spring  and  summer  months,  and,  if  they  were  left  alone, 
as  they  were  once  in  Australia  for  four  years,  they 
would  become  an  unmitigated  nuisance. 

In  this  far  northern  part  of  the  world,  nature  in  her 
wisdom  has  provided  an  additional  safeguard  by  mak- 
ing the  rabbits  susceptible  to  some  contagious  disease 
that  carries  them  off  every  four  years,  and  this  year  is 
the  fatal  year  for  them,  and  hence  there  are  no  rabbits 
to  be  seen  anywhere.  For  this  reason  the  lynx  has 
hunted  pastures  new,  for  without  the  rabbit  he  has 
such  hard  picking  that  he  needs  must  emigrate. 

I  have  read  much  of  the  glories  of  Switzerland,  of  its 
mountains  and  its  valleys,  and  have  seen  many  pictures 
of  the  same,  but  I  cannot  believe  that  they  surpass  or 
even  equal  the  grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  mountains 
and  valleys  of  this  comparatively  unknown  country. 
There  have  been  undoubtedly  many  timber  speculators 
there  looking  the  timber  over,  but  the  first  stick  of 
wood  has  yet  to  be  cut  by  a  lumberman  to  be  shipped  to 
the  outer  world.  Whatever  timber  has  been  cut  there 
would  not  amount  to  more  than  10,000  feet  in  a  year, 
and  that  would  be  for  Kibbee's  or  McCloud's  use  as  fire- 
wood, or  for  the  making  of  one  or  two  boats. 

Gold  prospectors,  too,  have  been  there,  and  yet  not 
one  dollar's  worth  of  gold  has  seen  the  outer  world.  It 
is  really  virgin  soil,  clothed  with  virgin  timber  and, 
leaving  out  a  half  acre  patch  of  tilled  ground  beside 


244  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Kibbee's  Bear  Lake  camp,  it  is  a  virgin  agricultural 
land.  So  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  this  region  is  un- 
known even  to  the  people  of  British  Columbia  them- 
selves. 

In  fighting  our  way  up  Long  Lake  against  the  head 
wind,  some  curious  vagaries  of  wind,  rain,  hail,  thunder 
and  lightning  made  the  passage  not  only  startling,  but 
for  a  tune  positively  dangerous.  Once  a  strong  warm 
current  of  air  struck  us  on  the  left  side  of  the  face,  fol- 
lowed within  a  minute  by  a  blast  of  cold  air  on  the  op- 
posite side.  This  condition  continued  for  a  half  hour 
while  the  various  forces  were  assembling  for  a  final 
contest  as  to  which  should  win. 

Then  a  flash  of  lightning  and  a  loud  clap  of  thunder 
aroused  us  to  the  fact  that  the  titanic  battle  was  on  and 
to  some  apprehension  as  to  the  safety  of  our  heavily- 
laden  boat.  Following  the  electric  exhibition  came 
three  distinct  whirlwinds. 

The  first  struck  us  from  the  left,  and,  despite  our 
paddles,  it  swept  us  nearly  across  to  the  right-hand  side 
of  the  lake,  and  we  were  in  the  middle  of  the  lake 
when  it  commenced.  The  second  brought  us  directly 
back  again  even  more  suddenly  than  we  had  crossed  at 
first,  and  this  time  we  came  dangerously  near  capsizing. 

The  third  whirlwind  caught  us  astern  and  carried  us 
up  the  lake  whether  we  liked  it  or  not.  The  waves 
came  in  long  spasmodic  rollers  crested  with  foam,  but 
as  long  as  we  shipped  no  water  we  were  content.  This 


"  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA  "    245 

continued  until  nine  of  the  twelve  miles  had  been 
covered,  and  then  came  the  rain  in  a  deluge. 

Our  guide  had  no  camp,  but  he  had  long  ago  found  a 
spruce  tree  which  was  set  at  such  an  angle  that  we  would 
be  perfectly  dry  under  its  sheltering  branches.  With 
some  little  difficulty  we  made  a  safe  landing,  carried 
our  dunnage  and  supplies  to  the  lucky  spot,  pulled  the 
boat  up  on  the  rocks  out  of  danger  of  wind  and  water, 
and  then  gave  hearty  mental  thanks  for  our  safety. 
The  storm  varied  in  intensity  through  the  night,  but 
quieted  down  enough  by  morning  to  permit  us  to  pass 
onward  to  our  destination. 

When  we  pushed  off  from  the  sheltering  arm  of  the 
spruce  boughs,  we  saw  ahead  of  us  what  appeared  to  be 
a  gap  only  the  width  of  a  creek  where  the  feet  of  two 
mountains  came  down  from  opposite  sides  and  almost 
closed  the  channel ;  but  when  the  boat  entered  the  pass 
it  was  found  to  be  nearly  a  mile  wide.  The  height  of 
the  mountains  on  each  side  had  played  with  our  sense 
of  distance. 

Once  more  the  Swamp  Eiver  was  entered.  There 
were  two  channels,  and  the  water  in  both  looked 
fiercely  swift ;  the  left  channel  was  chosen.  It  was 
filled  with  sand-bars  and  had  a  few  deep  pools  and 
some  rather  bad  rapids.  These  were  passed  by  one  man 
walking  on  the  bank  pulling  with  the  rope,  another 
holding  the  boat  out  with  the  canoe  pole,  and  the 
writer  using  the  stern  paddle. 


246  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

We  then  came  back  into  the  main  stream,  and  soon 
it  was  bull  strength  with  paddle  and  pole  for  a  mile 
and  a  half.  Then  we  beheld  the  entrance  to  the  much- 
talked-of  Iron  Slough.  This  stream,  if  such  it  can  be 
called,  enters  the  river  on  the  right,  as  you  go  up,  and 
passes  through  a  great  stretch  of  marsh-land,  turning 
and  twisting  its  way  through  the  ever-present  alders 
and  willows  for  a  distance  of  seven  miles,  and  all  of 
this  way  running  parallel  to  the  Swamp  Eiver,  which 
flows  to  the  left. 

At  the  head  of  this  slough,  or  stream,  as  I  prefer  to 
call  it,  nestles  a  tiny  lake — right  against  the  breast  of 
a  mountain,  down  whose  sides  flow  two  icy  creeks 
which  feed  it,  and  in  turn  this  lake  feeds  the  stream. 

At  places  on  the  way  up,  Kibbee  went  on  to  the 
wide-stretching  marsh,  and  climbed  some  high  tree 
from  whose  branches  he  could  scan  the  sea  of  waving 
swale  grass,  hazel  bushes,  high-bush  cranberries,  stunted 
spruce  trees,  blueberry  bushes,  mossy  bog-land  and 
hummocks,  treacherous  underfoot  and  hard  to  balance 
one's  self  upon.  As  a  fitting  border  to  the  picture,  we 
could  see  the  Swamp  Eiver  in  the  distance,  with  a 
rampart  of  towering  mountains  guarding  it. 

Trails  of  caribou  and  moose  we  all  could  see,  and 
fresh  tracks  of  both  animals,  too ;  but  not  a  single 
piece  of  game  could  the  guide  or  we  detect.  We  took 
a  frugal  lunch  at  the  head  of  the  stream  where  it  could 
be  stepped  over,  and  then  went  to  the  lake. 


"  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA  "     247 

Here  the  writer  climbed  up  the  side  of  a  mountain 
for  a  hundred  feet,  while  the  guide  from  the  same 
elevation  climbed  an  old  hemlock  tree.  He  sat  up 
there,  and  I  stood  on  a  rock,  gazing  out  upon  that  vast 
marsh,  expecting  certainly  to  see  at  least  a  band  of 
caribou  or  a  pair  of  moose,  but  not  a  single  mammal 
enlivened  the  scene. 

Of  bird  life,  we  noted  a  marsh  hawk  and  a  sparrow 
hawk  searching  for  their  evening  meal,  and  a  pair  of 
kingfishers  circling  overhead;  but  this  was  all.  Our 
expected  game  were  undoubtedly  up  the  sides  of  the 
mountains,  but  the  brush — the  everlasting  brush — kept 
us  from  getting  near  them. 

There  are  certain  rules  of  ethics  carefully  observed 
among  trappers  and  others  up  here.  When  Kibbee 
first  put  in  an  appearance  with  his  traps  on  this 
favored  ground,  a  man  by  the  name  of  Moxey  claimed 
possession,  and  it  was  buyout  or  "  git  out."  Kibbee 
bought  out,  getting,  in  addition  to  the  right,  all  of 
Moxey's  stock  of  traps. 

Then  another  man  appeared  who  knew  not  the  land, 
but  who  claimed  rights  upon  it.  He  built  a  cabin,  but 
before  it  was  finished  Kibbee  "  went  to  see "  him. 
There  were  but  few  words  spoken  between  them ;  the 
man  sold  out  and  left.  Now  none  is  there  to  dispute 
Kibbee's  title  to  the  trapping  lines. 

This  great  marsh  is  the  natural  home  of  the  beaver. 
We  went  over  no  fewer  than  nineteen  of  their  dams, 


248  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

which  were  in  fair  condition,  besides  a  hundred  or 
more  that  years  ago  were  abandoned  and  allowed  to 
go  to  ruin.  These  animals  have  tunneled  the  ground, 
built  houses,  dammed  streams,  and  changed  water- 
courses wherever  and  whenever  their  fancy  pleased. 
They  here  have  an  abundance  of  food  of  just  the  kind 
they  most  love,  and  now,  as  there  is  a  close  time  upon 
them  and  no  one  is  permitted  to  trap  them,  they  are 
increasing  in  number  very  fast. 

The  marsh  also  makes  a  splendid  feeding  ground  for 
the  caribou,  and  their  tracks  are  seen  everywhere.  We 
were  told  that  the  wolverine  is  the  caribou's  deadly 
enemy,  and  Kibbee  has  never  yet  trapped  one  without 
finding  caribou  hair  in  its  stomach. 

It  takes  two  wolverines  to  bring  one  of  the  big 
animals  down; — one  worries  him  in  front  and  the 
other  in  his  rear.  They  keep  at  him  until  he  loses  his 
head,  and  runs  about  in  a  circle  across  which  the 
gluttonous  wolverines  will  cut  short  corners  and  nab 
him  behind,  finally  hamstringing  him,  and  thus  bringing 
him  to  the  ground.  Then  his  finish  is  speedy  and  sure. 

The  deer  up  here  have  a  hard  time  of  it  with  the 
coyotes.  In  the  spring  time,  when  the  deer  are  feeble 
and  lean,  and  the  winter's  crust  of  snow  becomes 
weakened  by  the  presaging  spring  weather,  the  coyote 
will  startle  them  into  making  a  few  running  jumps. 
The  crust  gives  way,  the  deer  are  stalled,  and  the 
coyote  gets  his  belly  full  of  meat. 


"  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA  "     249 

We  stayed  at  the  head  waters  of  the  stream  until 
the  afternoon  and,  as  rain  was  again  threatening,  we 
took  our  departure  for  the  same  nesting  place  which 
we  had  used  the  night  before.  Our  hunt  for  moose 
and  caribou  came  to  nothing. 

However,  we  did  not  regret  the  lost  time  or  the 
labor  expended  in  reaching  this  remarkable  piece  of 
territory.  The  lure  of  the  big  game  had  taken  us  to  a 
wonderfully  grand  section  of  country,  which  was 
totally  new.  Sooner  or  later  it  will  attract  tourists 
from  near  and  far  by  its  beauty  and  rugged  grandeur. 

We  have  seen  mountains  that  as  yet  have  never  been 
limned  by  the  artist's  brush  or  portrayed  through  the 
medium  of  the  stereoptic  camera.  In  fact,  I  question 
much  whether  the  territory  has  ever  before  been  written 
about. 

Several  men  in  Barkerville  asked  if  we  intended 
writing  about  the  country  and  if  we  expected  to  print 
what  was  written.  We  said  we  surely  would  if  the 
sights  we  saw  warranted  it.  So  this  is  possibly  the 
first  screed  that  has  been  written  upon  this  vast  sweep 
of  country,  hemmed  in  by  mountains  that  are  not  yet 
even  named,  watered  by  streams  along  the  shores  of 
which  even  a  prospector  has  not  yet  trod. 

One  man  we  know  has  climbed  to  the  top  of  three 
mountains,  but  where  are  the  men  who  have  scaled  the 
others  ?  The  probability  is  that  their  tops  have  never 
yet  been  trod  by  the  foot  of  man. 


250  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

When  the  new  railroad  is  finished  a  journey  of  thirty 
miles  therefrom  will  bring  the  pioneers  and  venturesome 
ones  right  into  the  heart  of  this  region,  where  now  a 
distance  of  about  three  hundred  and  forty  miles  must 
be  covered  by  stage,  packhorse,  and  canoe  before  the 
incomer  will  be  able  to  sit  where  this  chapter  was 
penned. 


CHAPTEE  XXIH 
ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY 

DR.  W.  E.  HUGHES,  our  scientist,  had  his  heart  set 
upon  climbing  one  of  the  big  mountains  that  over- 
looked our  camp.  First,  his  ambition  was  to  get  within 
rifle  shot  of  the  nimble  mountain  goat ;  next,  to  try  his 
luck  with  the  whistling  marmot,  or  mountain  ground- 
hog, of  the  Selkirk  and  other  western  ranges;  and, 
lastly,  to  study  the  flora  and  fauna  of  these  craggy 
peaks. 

Having  no  such  high  desire,  the  writer  was  assigned 
to  the  care  of  a  young  man  born  of  Scottish  parents  in 
Cape  Breton,  Nova  Scotia.  Neil  was  his  given  name. 
He  was  industrious ;  a  fairly  good  cook,  a  good  axe- 
man, and  a  good  boatman.  He  was  not  a  hunter,  nor 
did  he  pretend  to  be  one. 

His  life  so  far  had  consisted  in  working  very  hard  for 
his  daily  pay ;  first  at  wood-cutting  in  Maine,  then  in 
digging  and  picking  potatoes  in  Aroostook  County,  that 
state,  where  he  was  expected  to  fill  one  hundred  barrels 
per  day ;  next  he  was  a  section  hand  on  a  small  railroad 
in  the  Pine  Tree  State. 

Then,  seven  years  ago,  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad 
having  advertised  the  low  rate  of  twenty-five  dollars 
from  Portland,  Me.,  to  Vancouver,  B.  C.,  he  and  a  fel- 


252          WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

low  workman  took  the  trip.  Landing  at  Ashcrof t,  they 
have  labored  in  this  province  ever  since. 

There  was  a  gold-mining  operation  away  up  in  the 
north,  the  road  to  it  being  over  a  trail  four  hundred 
miles  north  of  Quesnelle  on  the  Frazer  River.  Some 
parts  of  machinery  were  needed  to  equip  a  sawmill,  so 
as  to  commence  sawing  wood  in  the  early  spring,  and 
this  lad,  with  six  others,  was  hired  to  haul  the  much- 
wanted  machinery  upon  hand  sleds. 

Each  man  had  to  pull  a  load  of  150  pounds  outside  of 
his  own  kit  and  provisions — the  total  load  being  close 
to  200  pounds  each.  The  freight  weighed  a  total  of 
1,050  pounds.  It  was  found  best  to  start  each  day's 
work  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  for  then  the  crust 
on  the  snow  was  hard  and  glistening,  but  by  that 
same  hour  in  the  afternoon  the  snow  was  so  soft 
as  to  make  it  impracticable  to  travel  over  it.  They,  of 
course,  traveled  on  snow-shoes  and,  as  seventeen  men 
were  on  the  trail  ahead  of  them  bound  for  the  same 
mine,  their  path  was  well  marked  and  easily  kept.  The 
man  who  contracted  to  deliver  the  freight  was  paid 
§1.60  per  pound,  or  a  total  of  $1,680,  and  he  made  some 
good  money  upon  the  contract. 

The  start  was  made  on  the  morning  of  March  13th 
and  the  trip  ended  on  the  same  day  in  the  month  of 
April.  Thirty-one  days  of  walking  and  dragging  a  sled 
heavily  weighted  for  four  hundred  miles  was  no  mean 
achievement  in  that  space  of  time. 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY    253 

Neil  and  his  fellow  workers  on  the  hand  sleds  ob- 
tained work  on  another  mining  operation  at  that  place, 
working  there  all  summer,  and  then  receiving  but  $50 
each ;  the  manager  having  slipped  off  to  Vancouver  and 
left  them  to  mourn  the  loss  of  their  summer's  wages, 
which  he  still  owes  to  them. 

The  prices  for  commodities  in  the  settlement  that 
summer  were,  roughly  speaking,  three  pounds  for  one 
dollar.  Three  pounds  of  flour,  of  sugar,  of  rice,  of 
corn-meal,  of  beans?  or  of  oatmeal  for  one  dollar,  and 
bacon,  butter,  tea  and  coffee  one  dollar  per  pound. 
This  will  give  a  pretty  good  idea  of  what  it  means  to 
live  up  in  this  far-off  country  where  strength  and  brawn 
are  what  count  for  success. 

Now  this  rough-and-ready,  willing  and  able  worker 
was  to  be  my  sole  companion  for  a  week.  We  left 
Bear  Lake  camp  at  eight  o'clock  of  a  Monday  morning, 
with  a  hard  head  wind  facing  us.  It  is  seven  miles 
across  the  lake,  and  the  wind  and  the  waves  were  too 
much  for  us  at  one  point,  and  we  went  ashore  close  to 
the  side  of  a  high  rugged  mountain. 

"  While  we  are  waiting  for  the  wind  to  go  down, 
suppose  we  climb  up  to  the  bear  trail  that  winds  around 
the  mountain,"  Neil  said.  "  You  can  walk  along  that 
for  a  mile  or  so,  and  when  you  want  me,  I  will  be  fol- 
lowing close  inshore  with  the  boat,  and  you  can  easily 
reach  me  by  blowing  your  whistle." 

I  did  so,  and  found  the  trail  without  any  trouble,' but 


254  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

it  was  a  different  thing  to  keep  it.  Bruin  seems  to  pay 
but  little  attention  to  obstacles ;  where  he  can  go  under 
a  dead  fall,  or  over  one,  there  the  trail  runs.  If 
not,  it  may  start  right  up  the  mountain,  or  down  to  the 
water's  edge.  For  the  writer,  going  under  the  dead 
falls  meant  to  crawl  on  hands  and  knees ;  to  go  over 
them  was  to  climb  through  a  frieze  of  dead  and  broken 
branches,  as  well  as  over  the  prostrate  trees,  and  numer- 
ous falls  soon  admonished  me  that  paddling  at  the  bow 
of  the  boat  was  an  easier  place  than  following  that  sort 
of  trail. 

A  few  blasts  of  the  whistle  brought  the  faithful  Neil 
to  the  shore  with  the  boat.  If  paddling  across  Bear 
Lake  was  hard  work,  it  was  nothing  to  the  work  we 
had  in  poling  up  the  river,  for  it  was  in  flood,  and  with 
the  wind  behind  it,  the  best  that  could  be  done  was  to 
dodge  into  the  eddies  first  on  one  side,  and  then  on  the 
other,  so  that  when  Swan  Lake  camp  was  reached  we 
found  we  had  used  up  six  hours  in  going  nine  miles. 

After  lunch  there  we  were  off  again  for  another  tug 
against  wind  and  current  in  poling  still  further  up  the 
river.  We  had  gone  a  couple  of  miles,  when  the  mouth 
of  a  slough  loading  to  a  widely  extended  marsh  was 
reached  and,  to  give  us  a  breathing  spell  and  to  see  if 
there  was  any  game  in  sight  on  the  marsh,  I  directed 
Neil  to  shove  into  it.  The  mouth  of  the  slough  was 
somewhat  choked  up  with  willow  brush  and,  as  the  boat 
made  an  awkward  swing  into  the  brush  at  one  side, 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY    255 

Neil  grabbed  one  of  the  treacherous  branches  to  pull 
the  boat  in  by,  but  instead  of  pulling  us  in,  the  rude 
branch  pulled  him  out  head  over  heels  into  the  icy 
glacial  water.  He  climbed  into  the  stern  of  the  boat 
and  shook  himself  like  a  dog,  and  asked  what  should  be 
done  now.  I  said,  "  We'll  get  right  back  again  into  the 
stream  and  pull  for  all  we're  worth,  so  as  to  keep  you 
from  getting  chilled  through." 

On  passing  up  we  came  to  two  sandy  beaches,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  river,  and  on  both  sides  there  were 
fresh  tracks  of  a  grizzly  bear  made  but  a  few  hours 
before.  We  poled  up  to  the  next  beach  above,  and 
there  we  landed.  Neil  undressed,  and  with  the  loan  of 
a  jumper  and  a  pair  of  overalls,  a  shirt  and  undershirt 
and  a  pair  of  trousers  from  my  kit,  he  succeeded  in  get- 
ting a  complete  suit  of  dry  clothes. 

It  was  now  getting  dark,  and  it  seemed  to  me  a  good 
idea  to  run  down  again  to  the  place  where  the  fresh 
bear  tracks  were.  As  there  was  a  little  cove  at  the 
upper  end  of  one  of  the  sandy  beaches  and  the  wind  at 
that  point  being  in  our  favor,  we  could  run  the  boat 
into  the  cove  and  lie  there  snug  and  comfortable  for 
the  night  and  watch  for  bruin  at  the  same  time. 

We,  therefore,  went  down,  pushed  the  boat  into  the 
cove,  cut  off  some  willow  brush  to  give  us  an  unob- 
scured  view  of  the  beaches,  pulled  the  bow  hard  and 
fast  upon  the  sand,  ate  some  cold  boiled  rice  which  we 
had  brought  with  us  in  a  kettle,  and  then  fixed  our- 


256  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

selves  for  the  night.  I  told  Neil  to  go  to  sleep,  and  I 
would  waken  him  at  midnight,  and  then  he  should  go 
on  watch.  Neil  lay  down  in  the  stern  and  cuddled  up 
as  best  he  could.  He  was  soon  snoring  and  dead  to  the 
world,  and  while  my  vigil  lasted  he  could  be  plainly 
heard  at  times  above  the  noise  of  the  rushing  water. 
This  was  something  I  hadn't  counted  on  and  I  felt  sure 
that  no  bear  would  come  near  us  while  the  snoring 
lasted.  But  how  to  stop  it  was  a  problem  which  could 
not  be  solved  during  that  night  at  least. 

The  night  passed  very  slowly,  the  only  sounds  heard 
being  the  calls  of  a  pair  of  moose  lovers  away  off  to 
the  back  of  us  and  the  splashing  of  an  occasional  musk- 
rat.  I  did  not  waken  Neil,  but  kept  watch  all  of  the 
night  and  morning  myself,  dozing  off  at  times  for  a  few 
minutes  until  the  welcome  glow  of  sunrise  bade  us  be 
up  and  doing. 

Then  I  saw  an  exhibition  of  patience  and  endurance 
on  the  part  of  Neil,  which  had  lasted  through  the  most 
of  the  night,  that  impressed  me  more  by  its  silent  tes- 
timony than  a  whole  chapter  of  words  could  have  done. 
The  boat  had  been  leaking,  and  as  he  lay  upon  his  left 
side  and  the  boat  was  tilted  some  degrees,  it  happened 
that  where  he  lay  just  one-half  of  his  body  was  in  the 
water,  and  therefore  was  wet,  while  the  upper  half 
was  dry. 

His  teeth  were  chattering  when  I  called  him.  He 
simply  remarked  that  his  sleep  had  been  fitful  and  dis- 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY    257 

turbed,  at  times  he  slept  soundly  and  then  again  he 
had  been  kept  awake  by  the  slowly  accumulating  wa- 
ter in  the  boat.  Not  wanting  to  make  any  noise  for 
fear  of  possibly  alarming  a  prowling  grizzly  bear,  he 
had  suffered  and  endured  this  condition  in  silence. 
There's  grit  for  you. 

When  we  arrived  at  our  cabin  he  complained  of  a 
headache  and  a  swelling  in  his  throat,  and  that  night  I 
induced  him  to  bathe  his  feet  in  hot  water  for  twenty 
minutes  and  go  to  bed  without  his  supper.  This  evi- 
dently was  the  proper  treatment  for  him,  as  he  was  all 
right  the  next  morning,  but  he  asked  to  be  excused 
from  any  more  lying-out  watches  at  night. 

It  now  commenced  to  rain,  and  continued  to  pour  in 
a  steady  shower,  such  as  only  this  part  of  British  Co- 
lumbia and  some  sections  of  the  tropics  can  revel  in. 
There  was  not  the  slightest  let-up  by  day  or  night  until 
forty-eight  hours  had  passed.  You  may  ask  what  was 
to  be  done  during  such  a  downpour  of  rain?  The 
cabin,  12x14,  was  no  place  to  sit  in  and  none  to  hunt 
in.  If  the  fire  was  burning  brightly,  you  had  to  go 
out-of-doors  on  account  of  the  heat,  and  just  then  it 
was  very  wet  out-of-doors. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  the  cabin  was 
a  growth  of  magnificent  Douglas  firs,  perhaps  a  hun- 
dred of  them  in  all.  These  trees  are  tall  and  stately ; 
straight  as  an  arrow,  and  gradually  tapering  off  until 
the  top  of  the  stem  is  reached.  In  a  strong  wind  they 


258  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

swayed  from  side  to  side,  the  tops  swinging  in  a  half 
circle,  and  if  the  wind  should  be  strong  enough,  they 
will  at  times  lash  and  snap  like  a  whip.  John  Muir, 
in  "A  Wind-storm  in  the  Sierras,"  describes  these 
noble  trees,  one  of  which  he  climbed  during  a  great 
wind-storm,  as  follows : 

"  Though  comparatively  young,  they  were  about  a 
hundred  feet  high,  and  their  lithe,  brushy  tops  were 
rocking  and  swirling  in  wild  ecstasy.  Being  accus- 
tomed to  climb  trees  in  making  botanical  studies,  I  ex- 
perienced no  difficulty  in  reaching  the  top  of  this  one, 
and  never  before  did  I  enjoy  so  noble  an  exhilaration 
of  motion.  The  slender  tops  fairly  flapped  and  swished 
in  the  passionate  torrent,  bending  and  swirling  back- 
ward and  forward,  round  and  round,  tracing  indescrib- 
able combinations  of  vertical  and  horizontal  curves, 
while  I  clung  with  muscles  firmly  braced,  like  a  bobo- 
link on  a  reed." 

Interspersed  with  the  Douglas  firs  were  some  balsam 
firs,  a  few  very  tall  black  spruces  and  some  second- 
growth  pines.  In  prowling  through  this  growth  of  tall 
timber,  on  the  forenoon  of  our  arrival,  when  the  sun 
was  shining,  and  when,  for  a  part  of  one  day  at  least, 
nature  was  to  be  seen  at  her  best,  I  discovered  two  of 
these  Douglas  firs  growing  but  a  foot  apart,  one  of 
them  measuring  twenty-eight  inches  in  diameter  and 
the  other  thirty-seven  inches,  and  both  of  them 
over  one  hundred  feet  tall.  Directly  back  of  this  pair 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY    259 

of  sylvan  monarchs  were  a  balsam  fir  and  a  spruce. 
The  branches  of  the  Douglas  firs  spread  out  as 
they  neared  the  ground,  so  that  they  formed  a  can- 
opy, or  giant  umbrella,  with  a  circumference  of  thirty 
feet. 

The  tips  of  the  lower  branches  were  incased  in  swing- 
ing trailing  moss,  which  acted  like  an  immense  circular 
sponge  in  absorbing  and  holding  the  rain  as  it  fell. 
All  around  these  trees  was  an  accumulation  of  spills 
and  cones,  maybe  the  accretion  of  a  couple  of  centuries' 
growth,  and  as  dry  as  punk.  I  dug  down  into  the 
rather  compact  mass  with  my  hands,  and  low  down  the 
spills  had  become  mostly  disintegrated  into  dust,  but 
the  cones  were  yet  firm  for  a  foot  from  the  surface. 
"  Here,"  I  said,  "  is  a  model  shelter  from  all  the  rain 
and  all  the  storms  with  which  rude  winter  may  ever 
afflict  the  land." 

In  front  of  this  haven  of  security  ran  a  little  brook 
fed  with  icy  water  from  the  great  snow-capped  moun- 
tain opposite.  The  busy  beavers  had  built  a  pair  of 
their  ingenious  dams  on  the  stream,  both  of  them 
below  this  spot.  Some  of  the  sock-eye  salmon  had 
forced  their  way  up  over  the  first  dam  into  the  pool 
above;  six  pairs  of  them  being  counted  at  their  life- 
work  of  spawning,  while  nineteen  dead  salmon  showed 
that  their  end  had  come  in  carrying  out  nature's  be- 
hest. Only  one  pair  had  surmounted  the  second  dam, 
and  this  pair  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  studying  with 


26o  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

intense  interest  their  actions  during  the  process  of 
spawning. 

Close  to  the  two  Douglas  lirs  a  deep  well-worn  bear 
trail  led  down  from  the  mountainside  right  to  the 
edge  of  this  brook,  and  from  the  bank  at  my  very  feet 
a  bear  had  been  catching  salmon  and  eating  them  on  the 
grass,  as  the  partly  eaten  salmon  heads  scattered  over 
the  ground  proved  beyond  a  doubt.  When  the  rain 
commenced  on  Tuesday  night,  we  trusted  that  by  the 
morning  the  cloudburst  would  be  over,  but  the  morning 
came  with  the  rain  just  as  steady  as  it  had  fallen  dur- 
ing the  night. 

Then  I  thought  of  the  Douglas  firs — a  thirty-foot 
umbrella.  Neil  having  a  coyote  to  skin,  I  had  him 
paddle  me  up  the  little  brook  to  the  foot  of  the  first 
beaver  dam  and  sent  him  back  to  the  cabin  to  finish 
his  work.  In  front  of  the  dam  hundreds  of  dead  salmon 
floated  upon  the  water,  or  were  settled  at  the  bottom, 
while  fifty  or  sixty  live  ones  were  spawning  among  the 
gravelly  stones. 

I  hoped  that  by  maintaining  a  day's  watch  under  the 
sheltering  arms  of  the  pair  of  firs  I  might  see  one  or 
more  bears  come  down  the  trail  and  get  a  shot  at  close 
range ;  so  I  scooped  out  a  bed  among  the  fir  spills  and 
cones,  where  I  could  lie  in  perfect — in  fact  luxurious — 
comfort  for  as  long  as  I  liked. 

With  a  copy  of  a  monthly  magazine  a  year  old  to 
read,  I  settled  myself  for  a  long  watch.  From  the  bed 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY    261 

where  I  lay  the  pair  of  salmon  could  be  seen  hour  after 
hour.  The  male,  in  an  apparently  vigorous  condition, 
was  lying  about  nine  feet  lower  down  in  the  stream  than 
the  female.  There  were  two  white  pebbles  close  to- 
gether, and  between  these  the  male  was  located.  The 
female  was  in  a  dilapidated  and  sorry -looking  condi- 
tion. Her  coat  was  of  a  pale  red  color,  while  his  was 
a  royal  scarlet.  Her  tail  and  dorsal  fin  were  nearly 
chewed  off,  and  she  appeared  so  weak  and  emaciated 
as  to  be  hardly  able  to  wriggle  her  tail.  Four  times 
one  day  and  five  times  the  next,  while  I  was  watching 
them,  the  male  shot  up  the  stream  to  where  she  was 
laboring  and  jabbed  at  her  with  his  jaw  and  bit  her  tail 
with  his  sharp  teeth. 

These  attacks,  of  course,  stirred  her  up  to  renewed 
energy  for  a  few  minutes,  and  he  would  then  drop 
down  to  his  old  position.  The  current  of  the  brook 
seemed  to  be  unsteady,  and  many  times  the  male 
would  shoot  out  to  the  right  a  few  feet  and  then  re- 
turn. I  presume  that  the  current  at  these  times  had 
carried  the  eggs  out  of  their  general  course,  and  as  it 
was  his  mission  to  fertilize  them,  he  would  thus  head 
them  off. 

The  whole  of  the  first  day  passed  in  this  manner, 
with  nothing  to  divert  the  attention  from  watching  the 
bear  trail,  excepting  these  two  salmon  and  a  red 
squirrel,  who  spent  his  time  in  gathering  pine-cones 
and  carrying  them  away  in  his  mouth.  A  tiny  bird, 


262  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

of  the  warbler  species,  and  a  grayish  white  moth  seemed 
to  like  being  under  my  shelter.  These  five  creatures 
were  my  sole  companions  for  two  days — the  salmon, 
of  course,  being  a  never-ending  source  of  interest. 

Meanwhile,  the  rain  kept  up  its  steady  downpour. 
The  weather  was  warm,  and  I  was  extremely  com- 
fortable. If  a  grizzly  bear  had  come  down  the  trail,  I 
would  have  been  content,  but  that  one  want  was  not 
satisfied,  and,  therefore,  my  best-laid  plans  went  all 
"  aglee."  Friday  morning  the  sun  at  last  broke  through 
the  enveloping  clouds  of  mist  and  rain.  "We  decided 
to  pull  up  stakes  and  return  to  Sandy  Lake,  where  the 
lone  bull  was  killed,  our  idea  being  that  by  this  time 
bears  might  be  feeding  upon  his  carcass. 

We  ran  the  boat  down  the  river  to  the  entrance  to 
Swan  Lake,  and  here  we  found  that  the  overflow  from 
the  river,  which  had  risen  five  feet  during  the  down- 
pour, was  rushing  up  the  narrow  entrance  into  Swan 
Lake,  and  through  that  lake  into  Spectacle  Lake,  three 
miles  further  up.  We  had  lunch  and  spent  the  night 
at  the  cabin  on  Swan  Lake,  and  with  a  stiff  head  wind 
against  us  pushed  on  the  next  morning  to  Spectacle 
Lake  and  over  a  portage  there  into  Little  Lake. 

In  the  cabin  at  this  portage  we  found  a  note  from 
the  balance  of  our  party,  consisting  of  Drs.  "W.  J.  and 
W.  R.  Roe  and  one  guide,  stating  that  they  had  left  on 
Tuesday  for  Sandy  Lake  and  would  be  back  that  night, 
so  that  put  an  end  to  our  trip  to  the  remains  of  the 


ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  GRIZZLY    263 

caribou.  In  the  meantime,  in  prospecting  around  the 
upper  part  of  Spectacle  Lake  we  found  a  long  slough, 
which  terminated  at  one  end  in  a  circular  pond.  In 
one  corner  of  this  pond  was  a  well-beaten  bear  trail, 
and  my  mind  was  set  upon  lying  out  under  some  trees 
close  by  it.  Neil  said  it  was  a  likely  place  to  shoot 
a  bear  if  one  should  come  down,  but — you  know  the 
rest. 

The  other  men  reached  the  cabin  before  dark.  They 
had  been  at  Sandy  Lake  tiwo  days.  The  carcass  of  the 
caribou  had  not  attracted  carnivorous  animals  of  any 
kind,  and  all  that  they  had  seen  on  the  trip  were  the 
tracks  of  a  large  moose.  They  decided  to  go  back  to 
Bear  Lake  on  the  following  morning,  start  on  Monday 
morning  for  Barkerville,  and  there  take  the  stage  for 
Ashcroft  at  six  o'clock  that  evening.  I  decided  to  stay 
another  week. 

On  this  evening  Neil  took  me  in  the  boat  to  the  cove 
at  the  end  of  the  slough,  and  having  seen  that  I  had 
everything  arranged  for  my  comfort  during  the  night, 
left  me  for  the  cabin,  which  he  had  some  difficulty  in 
reaching  on  account  of  the  darkness.  Nothing  came 
near  me  during  the  night  excepting  a  great  OAV!,  which 
suddenly  appeared  right  in  front  of  me  and  then 
sheered  off  to  one  side  and  soon  was  lost  in  the  pitchy 
darkness. 

Nature  is  very  considerate  of  all  birds  of  prey  that 
fly  by  night  in  providing  a  soft  downy  lining  of  feath- 


264  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

ers  for  the  inside  of  their  wings  which  makes  their 
flight  a  noiseless  one,  and  thus  enables  them  to  steal 
upon  the  unwitting  little  bird  as  it  nestles  in  the 
branches  of  a  tree,  or  to  pounce  upon  a  rabbit  as  it 
capers  through  the  grass  or  small  bushes. 

The  sky  was  covered  with  a  dark  canopy  of  clouds, 
which  prevented  the  moon  and  stars  from  being  seen, 
but  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  clouds  had  drifted 
away,  and  the  moon,  which  was  nearly  at  the  full,  came 
out  in  all  her  glory.  The  cover,  which  up  to  this 
time  had  been  but  a  region  of  shadows,  now  became 
almost  as  light  as  day,  and  if  Mr.  Grizzly  had  then 
walked  into  the  water,  it  would  have  been  a  fair  chance 
that  he  would  have  been  hit  with  one  or  more  bullets 
before  he  reached  the  shore  again,  if  indeed  he  had  not 
been  "  kilt  intoirely." 

It  grew  very  cold  toward  daylight,  and  when  Neil's 
canoe  rounded  into  the  cove  at  6  : 20  in  the  morning,  I 
need  not  say  that  I  was  very  glad.  Thus  ended  one 
week's  adventure  by  water  and  land,  in  storm,  rain  and 
sunshine,  leaving  much  to  think  over  but  little  to  regret. 


CHAPTER  XXIY 
HOW  THE  SALMON  IS  VANISHING 

WHILE  staying  at  the  Bear  River  camp  I  met 
John  P.  Babcock,  fish  commissioner  of  the  province  of 
British  Columbia.  Mr.  Babcock  is  a  man  who  enjoys 
an  international  reputation  in  all  matters  piscatorial. 
He  is,  above  all,  a  recognized  authority  upon  the  habits 
of  the  salmon  and  upon  the  statistics  relating  to  the 
annual  catch,  or  "  pack."  He  was  on  a  tour  of  in- 
spection of  all  the  salmon  streams  in  the  province. 

Bear  River  is  the  "  mother  stream  "  of  an  enormous 
run  of  sock-eye  salmon  and  of  the  so-called  spring 
salmon,  which  was  the  reason  for  his  visit.  I  was  glad 
indeed  to  listen  to  his  fascinating  talk  on  the  history 
of  the  salmon  while  he  was  waiting  for  the  morning 
light  to  enable  him  to  start  on  this,  his  annual  visit  to 
the  head  waters  of  our  river. 

It  will  perhaps  be  remembered  that  the  sock-eye, 
when  it  makes  its  fatal  journey  to  its  natal  spawning 
bed,  is  clothed  in  its  nuptial  colors,  the  body  being  of  a 
brilliant  scarlet,  while  the  head,  jaws  and  tail  are  of  a 
bright  shade  of  copper-colored  green. 

It  would  be  difficult  for  any  one  to  see  a  more 
beautiful  sight  than  that  made  by  this  magnificent  fish 
when  thousands  of  them  are  leaping,  plunging  and 


266  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

diving  in  the  clear  and  ice-cold  streams  of  this  far 
northern  clime  on  their  journey  to  the  very  spot  which 
their  unerring  instinct  assures  them  is  their  own  birth- 
place. 

Besides  the  sock-eye  and  the  spring  salmon,  there 
are  the  humpback,  the  blueback,  the  silver  and  the  dog 
salmon,  but  only  the  first  two  species  visit  the  Bear 
Eiver,  and  none  of  the  others  equal  the  sock-eye  in 
brilliancy  of  coloring. 

Mr.  Babcock's  mission  was  to  gauge  as  accurately 
as  possible  the  dimensions  of  the  "run"  of  sock-eye 
salmon  for  the  present  year. 

When  the  salmon  eggs  are  hatched  out  and  the 
young  fish  are  able  to  travel  to  the  ocean,  if  they  reach 
it  without  being  devoured  by  their  numerous  enemies 
by  the  wayside,  they  will  surely  return  four  years  after 
to  spawn  and  to  die.  Thus  in  four  years  the  fish  which 
were  then  being  hatched,  or  those  that  survive,  will 
return  to  carry  out  nature's  injunction  to  perpetuate 
the  species. 

In  Commissioner  Babcock's  report  for  1906  he  makes 
the  following  warning  statement : 

"  In  view  of  the  fact  that  the  catch  of  1903  was 
sixty-two  per  cent,  less  than  that  of  the  previous  fourth 
year,  1899  ;  that  the  catch  of  1894  was  sixty-six  per 
cent,  less  than  that  of  1901  ;  and  that  the  catch  of  this 
year  is  twenty-six  per  cent,  less  than  that  of  1902,  no 
other  conclusion  can  be  reached  but  that  the  great 


HOW  THE  SALMON  IS  VANISHING   267 

fishing  industry  of  the  Frazer  River  district  is  declining 
at  an  alarming  rate,  and  cannot  long  be  maintained 
under  existing  conditions." 

This  statement  applies  only  to  the  Frazer  River  and 
its  tributaries,  of  which  the  Bear  River  is  one,  but  the 
same  conditions  prevail  in  all  the  other  great  salmon 
rivers,  the  Columbia  River  in  Oregon,  the  Sacramento 
in  California,  the  Skeena  and  the  Naas  in  Canada,  and 
the  Yukon  in  Alaska,  each  and  every  one  showing  that 
the  reckless  slaughter  of  the  salmon  at  spawning  time 
is  bringing  about  the  inevitable  result  of  a  shorter  and 
shorter  run  with  each  succeeding  year.  Man  is  not 
the  only  transgressor,  although  he  is  undoubtedly  the 
most  serious  one. 

The  very  moment  that  the  salmon  appear  at  the 
mouths  of  these  great  rivers  their  arrival  is  heralded 
by  battalions  of  screaming  gulls,  yelping  seals  and 
plunging  sea-lions,  all  of  which  feast  on  the  royal  fish 
as  they  pass  up  the  fatal  streams. 

After  entering  the  rivers  they  reach  the  dreaded  set 
traps,  the  revolving  fish-wheels,  the  seines,  the  purse 
nets,  and  should  these  be  passed  in  safety  they  are 
beset  by  dogfish,  sharks  and  ospreys.  On  the  shores 
thousands  of  Indian  boys  and  girls,  some  as  young  as 
six  years  of  age,  together  with  their  parents,  are  at 
work  almost  day  and  night  spearing  the  fish. 

The  Indian  children  take  to  the  spearing  of  salmon 
as  naturally  as  they  do  to  their  mother's  milk  when 


268  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

babies.  I  have  seen  only  one  of  them  at  work.  He 
was  ten  years  of  age,  and  he  was  as  quick  in  his 
movements  with  the  spear  as  a  cat  after  a  mouse. 

Still  further  up-stream  the  grizzly  bear  and  the 
more  modest  black  bear  are  waiting  for  the  "  run," 
and  it  is  wonderful  the  number  which  these  greedy 
animals  catch  and  eat  or  reserve  for  later  use.  An 
old  and  experienced  trapper  says  a  full-grown  grizzly 
will  easily  bury  away  in  his  caches  3,000  salmon. 

Last,  but  not  least,  we  must  not  forget  the  dip  net, 
which  annually  claims  its  thousands  of  victims. 

When  the  vicissitudes  of  the  journey  up  to  the  natal 
spawning  bed  have  all  been  surmounted,  the  real 
troubles  of  the  mother  salmon  are  just  beginning. 
She  and  her  mate  scoop  out  a  depression  in  the  gravelly 
bottom  of  the  river  or  stream  with  their  bellies  and 
fins,  where  the  eggs  may  sink  to  the  bottom  of  the 
water  and  lay  there  in  safety  until  the  process  of 
hatching  out  is  completed.  Then  it  would  seem  as  if 
every  living  creature  in  that  immediate  locality  had  an 
insatiable  appetite  for  the  eggs. 

Trout  take  them  voraciously  ;  mallard  ducks  dabble 
and  dabble  in  the  running  water  for  them,  and  the 
male  salmon  seems  to  be  possessed  of  a  fierce  desire  to 
eat  his  neighbor's  progeny.  Worse  still,  in  the  last 
stages  of  the  spawning  process  the  mate  will  seize  the 
female  by  the  tail  and  cruelly  bite  and  lacerate  her. 
Whether  this  biting  is  done  as  a  counter-irritant  to 


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HOW  THE  SALMON  IS  VANISHING    269 

help  the  female  in  her  struggle  to  eject  the  roe  or  from 
bad  temper,  no  one  can  tell. 

As  the  days  come  and  go  the  poor  salmon  become 
weaker  and  weaker.  They  eat  no  food  from  the  time 
they  leave  the  ocean  and  live  solely  upon  the  absorp- 
tion of  their  own  flesh.  No  matter  how  many  salmon 
have  been  dissected  during  a  season,  none  have  ever 
been  found  with  any  food  in  their  stomachs. 

Many  of  them  die  of  exhaustion  before  they  even 
reach  the  spawning  bed.  During  the  process  of  spawn- 
ing the  fish  are  not  fit  for  food,  and  yet  the  Indians 
along  every  river  where  the  salmon  spawn  spear  and 
smoke  them  for  winter  food. 

We  reached  Bear  Lake  on  the  third  of  September, 
and  the  following  morning  we  had  our  first  sight  of  the 
splendidly  colored  sock-eyes.  Then  they  were  brilliant 
of  hue  beyond  compare.  Few  of  them  were  scarred  by 
battle  or  the  labor  of  working  up  the  stream,  although 
the  spring  salmon,  that  had  arrived  somewhat  earlier, 
were  even  then  showing  signs  of  wear  and  tear. 

By  the  twenty-fifth  of  the  same  month,  the  majority 
of  the  sock-eyes  were  already  dead.  Where  we  for- 
merly had  seen  a  hundred,  we  now  saw  five  and  six. 
One  morning,  from  a  high  bank  at  the  upper  part  of 
the  river,  where  we  had  seen  thousands  upon  our  first 
visit  three  weeks  before,  we  could  count  no  more  than 
thirty-nine  fish,  and  of  these  only  two  were  females. 

On  the  far  side  of  the  river  from  where  we  stood 


270  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

there  were  several  mounds  on  the  sandy  margin. 
These  were  caches  made  by  the  bears,  filled  with  sock- 
eye  salmon,  and  in  the  brush  at  the  back  were  more 
caches,  stored  with  fish  for  future  use.  The  eagles, 
fish-hawks,  crows,  mallard  ducks  and  gulls  were  having 
a  ghoulish  feast  upon  the  dead  and  decaying  fish. 

In  a  canoe  run  of  eighteen  miles,  which  I  made  in 
two  days,  while  standing  up  and  paddling  in  the  bow 
of  the  boat,  the  sight  that  met  my  gaze  was  really 
sickening.  The  bottoms  of  the  deep  pools  were  lined 
with  the  bodies  of  dead  salmon,  in  places  lying  cross- 
wise  on  top  of  each  other,  and  the  sandy  beaches  were 
strewn  with  the  now  putrid  fish. 

Hundreds  had  been  caught  on  the  willow  brush  as 
they  floated  down  on  the  head  of  a  high  rush  of  water 
that  occurred  two  weeks  before,  and  were  now  sus- 
pended and  slowly  rotting  away  a  foot  or  more  from 
the  running  water  underneath. 

The  crows  spy  a  dead  salmon  more  quickly  than  any 
other  birds  that  I  have  seen  ;  they  at  once  pluck  out 
the  eyes  and  leave  the  balance  of  the  fish  until  it  is  in 
a  decaying  state.  Then  they  gorge  themselves  until 
they  can  barely  fly. 

As  the  waters  of  the  rivers  recede  the  sand-bars  catch 
the  dead  fish  in  multitudes,  and  the  air  becomes  vitiated 
by  the  stench,  which  in  some  places  is  almost  unbear- 
able. As  Shakespeare  says,  it  is  "  a  very  ancient  and 
fish-like  smell ;  a  kind  not  of  the  newest,"  while  the 


HOW  THE  SALMON  IS  VANISHING    271 

water  itself  becomes  so  polluted  that  it  is  not  palatable 
or  safe  to  drink. 

In  daytime  the  sight  of  gluttonous  birds  feasting 
upon  carrion  is  bad  enough,  but  if  we  could  see  by 
night  we  would  behold  the  mink,  the  skunk,  the  fisher, 
and  perhaps  some  other  animals,  as  well  as  the  grizzly 
bear  himself,  all  busily  at  work,  either  eating  of  the 
foul  mess  or  storing  it  up  in  a  convenient  place  for 
future  use.  The  most  pitiful  sight  of  all,  however,  is 
to  see  the  dying  fish  floating  down  the  stream,  first  on 
its  side  and  later  on  its  back,  without  strength  to  swim, 
the  only  sign  of  life  being  perhaps  the  unconscious 
muscular  action  of  wagging  its  tail. 

Another  sight,  and  that  a  very  common  one,  is  where 
one  fish  has  weakened  more  in  the  vicissitudes  of 
the  run  than  its  mate,  and  while  lying  over  upon  its 
side  from  sheer  exhaustion  its  mate  pokes  it  with 
its  jaws  to  keep  stirring  it  up  to  further  effort,  until 
the  dying  one  becomes  stranded  upon  some  friendly 
shoal,  when  its  mate  plunges  away  into  deeper  and 
safer  waters.  Man's  inhumanity  to  man  has  often  been 
harped  upon,  but  the  worst  of  men  seldom  become  as 
cruelly  cruel  as  the  salmon  are  toward  each  other. 

From  the  most  recent  observations  of  the  present 
"  four-year  "  run  of  salmon  it  is  safe  to  say  that  it  will 
show  as  great  a  falling  off  in  actual  returns  as  the 
"  four-year  "  run  in  1905  did  from  that  of  its  preceding 
period,  and  if  this  prediction  should  prove  true,  some- 


272  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

thing  should  be  done  to  remedy  the  threatened  extinc- 
tion of  the  salmon. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  the  hatcheries,  by  arti- 
ficially hatching  out  millions  of  eggs,  are  doing  some 
little  to  stay  the  inevitable  hand  of  fate,  which  points 
unerringly  to  the  destruction  of  the  salmon  packing  in- 
dustry if  some  more  drastic  and  revolutionary  plan  is 
not  soon  adopted. 

Five  years  ago  the  interesting  and  valuable  beaver 
was  in  peril  of  obliteration  in  the  province  of  British 
Columbia,  where  the  beaver  grows  to  a  large  size  and 
is  clothed  with  a  skin  that  for  color  and  texture  chal- 
lenges the  world.  A  close  term  of  five  years  was  then 
placed  upon  them,  which  at  its  expiration  was  extended 
for  one  year  more. 

As  a  consequence,  the  marshy  bottoms  and  the 
mountain  streams  are  fairly  alive  with  these  industrious 
animals.  For  twenty  days  I  was  among  them  all  the 
time,  and  could  see  their  handiwork  on  every  side. 

Their  substantial  dams  can  be  found  in  every  running 
brook  in  the  mountainous  parts  of  the  province.  Their 
houses  may  be  seen  on  every  mountain  stream,  and 
their  caches  of  food  for  the  long  winter  months  are 
being  filled  by  thousands  and  thousands  of  the  busy  and 
hard-working  little  fellows. 

The  value  of  the  beaver  lies  not  alone  in  his  fur.  To 
the  trapper,  the  prospector,  the  surveyor,  the  freighter, 
the  hunter  and  the  red  man  his  flesh  is  food  of  the 


HOW  THE  SALMON  IS  VANISHING    273 

highest  value,  because  it  is  right  at  hand — easy  to  get 
and  easy  to  prepare. 

In  the  deepest  forest,  where  running  water  exists, 
the  trap  will  catch  him.  A  few  minutes  serves  to  skin 
and  dress  him,  and  yet  a  few  minutes  more  to  build  a 
fire,  put  him  on  a  stick  and  baste  him  with  his  own 
fat,  and,  presto !  a  meal  fit  for  a  king  is  before  the 
hunter. 

Every  one,  even  the  trappers,  who  make  more 
money  from  the  hides  of  the  beaver  than  from  any 
other  animal,  freely  admit  that  the  law  passed  for  the 
preservation  of  the  beaver  was  a  just,  humane  and 
timely  piece  of  legislation;  and  has  already  proven 
that  it  was  a  wise  and  necessary  precaution  for  the 
prevention  of  the  total  extinction  of  the  animal. 

The  salmon  packing  industry  during  recent  years  has 
reached  the  enormous  average  annual  pack  of  4,000,000 
cases  of  four  dozen  cans  each,  or  200,000,000  pounds  of 
salmon.  The  one-pound  cans  of  salmon  are  a  welcome 
and  economical  addition  to  the  table  of  the  majority 
of  the  people  of  civilized  countries,  and  if  the  industry 
should  become  a  thing  of  the  past,  because  of  the  ex- 
tinction of  the  fish,  it  would  be  almost  an  international 
calamity,  and  nations  should  join  hand  in  hand  to  pro- 
tect the  salmon  from  total  destruction,  the  same  as 
England,  Canada,  the  United  States,  Japan  and  Eussia 
have  done  to  protect  the  seal. 

State  and  national  legislation  in  the  United  States 


274  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

should  encourage  the  establishment  of  more  hatcheries 
for  the  artificial  propagation  of  the  salmon.  The 
Dominion  of  Canada,  or  the  province  of  British 
Columbia,  should  take  concurrent  action  on  the  same 
lines,  and  a  close  time  of  at  least  every  other  year  in  a 
given  period  of  say  six  years  should  be  adopted,  during 
which  time  no  fishing  by  revolving  wheel  traps,  seines, 
dip  nets,  spearing  or  in  any  other  manner  should  be 
permitted  for  the  purpose  of  canning,  preserving,  salt- 
ing or  smoking  the  fish. 

Thus  any  salmon  packed  during  the  close  years  would 
be  confiscated  as  illegally  packed,  and  the  offending 
packer  punished  by  fine  or  imprisonment.  As  the 
value  of  the  pack  at  the  present  time  aggregates  close 
to  $30,000.000,  it  must  necessarily  mean  joint  action 
on  the  part  of  the  states,  provinces  and  nations  inter- 
ested to  bring  about  the  best  and  most  thorough  re- 
sults. 

I  am  not  preaching  anything  new,  at  least  not 
to  residents  of  the  Pacific  Coast.  They  already  see 
the  handwriting  on  the  wall,  and  realize  that  some- 
thing must  be  done,  and  that  speedily,  to  remedy  the 
present  extravagant  destruction  of  the  fish. 

British  Columbia  would  like  to  see  the  states  of 
Oregon  and  California  and  the  territory  of  Alaska 
exact  such  legislation,  while  those  states  and  that 
territory  would  be  pleased  immensely  if  British  Colum- 
bia would  set  the  example  and  make  a  close  period. 


HOW  THE  SALMON  IS  VANISHING    275 

Here  is  an  opportunity  for  our  Secretary  of  State  and 
the  Premier  of  Canada  to  join  hands  in  helping  their  re- 
spective governments  to  help  themselves.  Common 
sense  dictates  such  a  step,  and  financial  interests  should 
demand  the  protection  and  perpetuation  of  this  great  in- 
dustry. The  English  householder,  who  is  now  able  to 
purchase  a  tin  of  good,  wholesome  salmon,  although  it 
may  not  be  of  the  finest  pack,  for  five  pence  half -penny 
— eleven  cents — and  the  Canadian  or  American  house- 
wife, who  can  purchase  a  can  of  like  quality  for  ten 
cents,  are  each  and  every  one  interested  in  this  serious 
and  vital  question. 

A  close  time  will,  of  course,  make  prices  higher  for 
a  few  years,  but  in  the  end  this  would  be  far  better 
than  the  total  destruction  of  a  trade  which  now  benefits 
the  entire  civilized  world. 

In  this  case  the  old  adage,  "  a  stitch  in  time  saves 
nine,"  is  a  homely  reminder  that  the  sooner  prompt 
and  efficient  action  is  taken  to  preserve  the  now 
vanishing  salmon  the  better  it  will  be  for  the  world  at 
large. 


CHAPTER  XXY 
BRITISH  COLUMBIA  BIRDS 

VERY  early  on  the  morning  of  October  4th  I  was 
awakened  by  a  bird  singing  his  matin  song  in  a  rollick- 
ing, joyous  mood,  befitting  early  spring  rather  than  the 
early  fall.  He  sang  as  if  he  was  putting  every  atom  of 
strength  that  he  possessed  into  the  melody,  for  melody 
it  was.  I  couldn't  sleep  after  he  started,  although  very 
tired  from  the  previous  day's  hard  work.  The  bird  was 
singing  in  one  of  a  clump  of  cot  ton  wood  trees  across  the 
Bear  River,  and  his  song,  while  bewitching  to  the  ear, 
was  totally  new  to  me,  and  I  couldn't  make  it  out. 

I  turned  to  nudge  my  bedfellow — Dr.  W.  E.  Hughes 
— and  asked  him  if  he  knew  what  it  was.  He  had  also 
been  awakened  by  the  songster,  and  was  then  trying  to 
see  if  he  could  recognize  the  identity  of  the  singer.  He 
ventured  to  say  that  it  must  be  a  robin,  although  his 
song  was  radically  different  from  his  eastern  relatives. 
In  a  few  minutes  one  of  the  men  down-stairs — a  native 
— said  to  a  late  riser :  "  Get  up.  Don't  you  hear  the 
robin  singing  to  you  as  if  his  heart  would  break  ?  Get 
up — get  up — you  laggard."  And  so  it  was  a  robin,  but 
oh,  so  different  from  ours,  and  this  made  us  note  the 
various  kinds  of  song  birds  and  of  game  birds  that  we 
saw  in  this  far-off  part  of  British  Columbia. 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA  BIRDS        277 

It  will  perhaps  be  of  interest  to  know  that  in  the 
vicinity  of  Long  Lake,  which  we  visited  on  September 
17th,  the  wild  goose,  the  mallard  duck,  the  red-breasted 
merganser,  and  the  blue- winged  teal,  made  their  nests, 
laid  their  eggs  and  hatched  out  their  young.  We  saw 
many  very  large  flocks  of  these  different  species  of  wild 
fowl  in  the  sheltered  coves  of  Sandy  Lake  and  Long 
Lake,  and  in  the  winding  waters  of  the  Iron  Slough. 

A  trapper  who  formerly  ranged  through  this  part  of 
the  Bear  Lake  territory,  when  he  found  the  nests  of 
the  wild  goose,  would  always  take  one  or  more  eggs 
from  the  nest,  as  long  as  the  goose  hadn't  started  to  sit 
upon  them.  He  claimed  that  the  goose  could  only 
count  up  to  four,  but  as  a  rule  they  lay  five  eggs,  and 
by  robbing  her  of  one  egg  a  day  he  could  keep  her 
"  laying  all  summer  without  setting,"  or  until  the 
gander  would  give  up  in  disgust  at  her  late  hatching 
and  hie  himself  off  to  other  quarters  in  search  of  an- 
other mate.  The  young  goslings  make  a  rich  feast  for 
the  bald  eagles,  who  so  gluttonously  feed  upon  them 
that  at  times  they  can  hardly  walk  from  overfeeding. 

Kibbee  came  up  to  a  full-grown  bald  eagle  once, 
which  was  so  surfeited  with  feasting  upon  the  tender 
young  birds  that  the  big  bird  couldn't  raise  himself 
from  the  ground,  and  he  was  consequently  killed  with 
a  canoe  pole. 

The  mallard  duck  shows  much  more  sense  than  the 
goose,  and  if  its  nest  or  the  eggs  are  tampered  with,  it 


278          WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

forsakes  the  locality  and  builds  a  new  nest  in  a  fresh 
location.  Tame  ducks  have  never  been  considered 
very  cleanly  birds  as  to  their  feeding  habits,  so  we 
were  not  surprised  to  learn  that  among  the  host  of 
birds  that  gorge  themselves  upon  the  dead  and  fast- 
decaying  salmon  which  pollute  the  air  and  the  water  of 
the  Bear  Kiver,  the  mallard  duck  is  about  as  greedy  as 
any  of  them.  During  the  time  when  they  are  thus  in- 
dulging in  the  Bacchanalian  feast,  their  flesh  is  so 
tainted  as  to  be  uneatable. 

An  osprey  had  a  nest  in  the  top  of  a  very  tall  dead 
tree.  We  frequently  watched  her  in  the  middle  of  the 
month  of  September  flying  forth  and  back  with  food 
for  her  young.  A  very  late  time  for  young  birds  to  be 
hatched  out,  we  thought,  and  we  wondered  if  anything 
had  happened  that  would  account  for  such  a  late  start 
in  life  for  the  youngsters,  as  in  a  few  weeks  at  the 
latest  winter  would  be  upon  them,  and  then  their 
wings  would  be  hardly  able  to  carry  them  to  the  south- 
land. 

There  were  many  specimens  of  the  bald  eagle  to  be 
seen  along  the  course  of  the  river,  and  of  crows  follow- 
ing the  same  watercourse — their  name  was  legion ;  it 
need  not  be  said  that  this  harvest  of  putrid  salmon  was 
partaken  of  until  they  could  hardly  give  a  warning 
"caw"  or  arise  in  flight  when  they  were  disturbed. 
There  were  a  few  ravens  consorting  with  them  with 
like  ravenous  appetites. 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA  BIRDS         279 

Of  hawks,  we  saw  several  specimens;  the  marsh 
hawk,  the  cooper's  hawk,  the  sharp-shinned  hawk,  the 
sparrow  hawk,  and  an  occasional  red-shouldered  hawk. 
Our  old  friends,  the  flickers,  were  here  in  goodly 
numbers. 

The  snowbirds  nest  in  this  region,  and  they  were  very 
abundant.  The  rusty  blackbird,  catbird,  chickadee, 
kinglet,  pine  siskin,  gambet,  white-throated  sparrow, 
and  tiny  humming-bird,  all  find  food  here  and  an 
environment  suitable  to  their  varied  wants,  and  when 
we  left  showed  little  signs  of  departing  for  a  warmer 
climate. 

One  day,  when  I  was  lying  behind  some  logs  watch- 
ing for  bear,  a  very  large  flock  of  great  crested  fly- 
catchers alighted  upon  a  tree  near  my  hiding-place. 
Whether  they  saw  me  and  wanted  to  see  what  manner 
of  being  I  was,  I  could  not  tell,  but  they  flitted  from 
tree  to  tree,  back  and  forth,  in  their  swift  flight  for 
over  an  hour,  always  in  sight,  and  never  staying  upon 
one  tree  for  more  than  five  minutes  or  so.  Before  they 
left,  reinforcements  had  reached  them  from  several 
directions,  so  that  when  they  finally  flew  away  their 
flight  was  to  the  south  and  their  numbers  had  been 
more  than  doubled.  No  doubt,  they  were  starting 
upon  their  annual  southern  migration. 

Nearly  all  of  the  wading  birds  had  left  long  before 
our  arrival,  and  many  of  these,  like  the  yellow-leg,  the 
bull-headed  plover,  the  golden  plover,  and  the  "Wilson 


280  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

snipe,  nest  here,  but  they  are  early  birds  to  leave.  "We 
saw  but  one  golden  plover,  a  few  sandpipers,  and  one 
Wilson  snipe. 

By  the  time  we  took  our  departure,  in  the  early  days 
of  October,  the  geese,  the  mallards,  the  teal,  and  the 
mergansers  had  disappeared,  and  a  few  loons  and  dip- 
pers were  all  that  were  left. 

The  mighty  Frazer  Eiver,  in  British  Columbia,  which 
is  soon  to  be  the  line  of  least  resistance  for  a  new  trans- 
continental railroad,  is  an  important  pathway  in  both 
the  northern  and  southern  migration  of  millions  upon 
millions  of  wild  fowl,  and  any  one  who  has  not  seen  the 
hosts  of  birds  which  come  down  from  the  far  north  in 
September  and  October  may  in  but  a  few  years  have  an 
object  lesson  that  they  will  long  remember  if  they 
should  take  a  journey  along  the  great  river  during  the 
fall  flight. 

The  Yukon  and  the  Columbia  Rivers  are,  likewise, 
trunk  lines  for  the  hosts  of  wild  ducks  and  wild  geese, 
while  along  the  smaller  watercourses  may  be  found 
millions  more  of  bay-birds,  curlew,  snipes  and  plover 
following  the  same  instinct  which  tells  them  that  in  the 
far-off  southland  is  food  a-plenty,  freedom  from  ice  and 
snow  and  a  sanctuary  where  their  young  can  thrive 
and  .grow  fat  upon  the  choicest  of  food,  and  where 
they  can  live  in  peace  and  quietude. 

We  must  not  forget  the  grouse,  for  there  are  plenty 
of  willow  grouse ;  our  old  friend,  the  ruffled  grouse,  or 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA  BIRDS         281 

pheasant,  having  the  same  habits,  but  not  the  same  fear 
of  human  beings,  as  this  bird  has.  He  will  run  along 
the  ground  or  on  top  of  a  log,  then  fly  to  some  near-by 
tree  and  sit  out  in  the  open ;  a  whole  covey  will  do 
this  in  conjunction,  and  if  the  gunner  picks  off  the  bot- 
tom ones,  one  by  one,  he  may  get  them  all,  but  let  him 
shoot  the  topmost  one  and  the  remainder  will  all  take 
flight. 

The  "  fool  hen,"  or  spruce  partridge,  as  we  call  it  in 
Maine,  also  abounds  here.  The  ptarmigan,  in  his  coat 
of  white,  frequents  the  high  mountains  and  generally 
may  be  found  above  the  timber  line. 

Just  think  of  what  a  fusillade  of  leaden  shot  the  wild 
ducks  and  wild  geese  will  have  to  pass  through  before 
they  return  again  in  the  spring.  A  taxidermist  tells  me 
that  at  least  two  geese  out  of  every  six  which  he 
mounts  have  one  or  more  pellets  of  buck  or  T.  T.  shot 
in  their  flesh,  which  have  been  there  from  previous 
flights,  the  wounds  made  by  the  shot  being  all  healed, 
so  that  until  the  birds  were  skinned  the  presence  of 
the  shot  was  completely  hidden. 

Upon  our  return  we  passed  several  good-sized  lakes  in 
Alberta  Territory  and  the  Saskatchewan  country, 
some  hundreds  of  miles  south  of  our  hunting  grounds, 
and  although  these  lakes  were  partly  frozen  over,  yet 
the  open  water  was  covered  with  wild  geese  and  ducks, 
and  the  gunners  were  on  hand  to  welcome  them. 

As  they  fly  south  through  the  Dakotas,  Minnesota, 


282  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Wisconsin,  Illinois,  Missouri,  the  Virginias  and  then  by 
the  "  Atlantic  coast  line  "  to  Florida  on  the  eastern  sea- 
board, or  down  through  the  states  of  Washington,  Ore- 
gon and  California  to  Mexico,  Central  and  South 
America,  their  flight  will  be  punctuated  at  every  rest- 
ing or  feeding  place  by  swiftly  propelled  charges  of 
chilled  shot.  These  will  be  fired  at  them  from  all 
manner  of  shotguns,  from  the  single-barreled  muzzle- 
loader,  carried  by  the  southern  darkey,  to  the  modern 
improved  hammeiiess. 

During  this  southern  migration  it  has  been  estimated 
that  more  than  500,000  guns  are  used  by  a  like  number 
of  men  and  boys.  A  hundred  cartridges  for  three  days1 
shooting  is  not  an  excessive  number  to  lire,  and  if  the 
gunners  are  out  on  an  average  of  three  times  in  a 
season,  we  will  have  the  enormous  total  of  150,000,000 
cartridges,  containing  an  ounce  and  a  quarter  of  shot  to 
each  one,  or  a  total  of  over  585  tons  of  shot.  This  is 
for  a  single  season. 

These  figures  may  seem  stupendous  and  perhaps  may 
be  excessive,  but  I  hardly  think  so.  Of  course,  if  every 
shot  bagged  a  bird  the  ducks  would  soon  be  extermi- 
nated, but  they  are  becoming  more  and  more  wary  with 
each  passing  year,  and  big  bags  are  the  exception  now- 
adays. 

The  stern  enforcement  in  most  of  the  states  and  ter- 
ritories of  the  game  laws,  which  limit  the  shooting  to 
prescribed  dates  and  in  some  states  to  only  a  certain 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA  BIRDS        283 

number  of  birds  that  may  be  killed,  is  doing  wonders 
toward  the  protection  of  wild  fowl  from  indiscriminate 
slaughter. 

Cold  storage  men  who  buy  up  and  store  away 
feathered  game  for  future  use  are  now,  in  many  of 
the  states,  under  strict  surveillance.  Fortunately,  the 
wild  duck  is  a  prolific  breeder,  and  if  given  but  half  a 
chance  their  number  will  increase  amazingly. 

In  the  extreme  north,  and  particularly  near  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company's  posts,  the  Indians  kill  large 
numbers  of  geese  and  smoke  or  otherwise  cure  them  for 
winter  consumption.  In  the  olden  days  the  Hudson 
Bay  Company  allowed  its  trappers  one  salmon  per  day 
in  British  Columbia  and  Alaska,  and  in  Athabasca  one 
wild  goose  or  three  big  white  fish,  and  up  in  the  Arctic 
circle  two  fish  or  three  pounds  of  reindeer,  or  one  wild 
goose. 

Many  are  the  families  up  north,  even  now,  who  must 
depend  upon  the  wild  duck  or  goose  for  their  store  of 
meat.  So  from  ocean  to  ocean — from  the  Arctic  circle 
to  the  wide  pampas  of  Patagonia — the  swift  flight  of 
the  wild  fowl  stirs  the  blood  of  the  sportsman,  and 
sharpens  the  appetites  of  millions  of  residents  along  the 
sedgy  lakes,  ponds,  or  rivers  of  the  fresh  waters,  or  the 
bays,  sounds  and  lagoons  of  the  sea  where  salt  marshes 
and  meadows  abound. 

A  doctor  of  my  acquaintance,  who  allowed  himself 
to  be  tied  down  to  a  large  practice  so  that  he  never 


284  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

could  or  would  get  away  for  a  day's  recreation,  once 
journeyed  with  me  to  a  happy  hunting  ground  in  a  bay 
off  the  coast  of  Virginia.  His  stay  was  to  be  only 
two  days,  but  the  time  was  February  and  a  blizzard 
came  along  which  kept  him  a  prisoner  for  four  days, 
and  the  incidents  of  that  time  were  so  indelibly  im- 
pressed upon  his  mind,  though  the  years  since  then  are 
many,  that  even  now  he  will,  upon  the  slightest  en- 
couragement, rehearse  them  over  and  over  as  if  there 
was  never  anything  in  this  wide,  wide  world  like  unto 
them. 

For  instance,  although  he  had  a  gun,  he  forgot  that 
fact  always  when  the  birds  came  in  with  a  swift  rush 
over  the  decoys  or  until  they  were  perhaps  nearly  out 
of  sight.  He  was  the  third  man  in  the  boat  when  a 
bunch  of  brant  came  in  with  a  grand  swirl,  and  the 
writer  and  the  guide  each  got  in  two  shots,  and  eight  of 
these  royal  birds  fell  at  the  discharge  of  the  guns. 

When  we  asked  him  why  he  didn't  shoot,  his  answer 
was  :  "  They  came  so  quick  that  I  hadn't  tune  to  get 
my  breath  before  they  were  gone."  It  so  happened 
that  another  bunch  swung  in  with  a  like  result.  These 
incidents  are  perhaps  the  brightest  bits  of  real  pleasure 
in  his  eminently  busy  life. 

The  lure  of  the  blue- winged  teal  or  of  the  mallard 
duck  brings  to  thousands  upon  thousands  of  men  re- 
newed life,  vigor,  and  freedom  from  business  cares. 
The  salty  air  puts  a  keen  edge  on  their  appetites.  The 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA  BIRDS         285 

sportsman  needs  no  sauce  with  his  meat,  for  hunger  is 
the  best  sauce  of  all,  and  when  a  day  in  the  ducking 
blind  will  not  make  a  hunter  hungry,  then  he  had  bet- 
ter put  his  house  in  order,  for  he  is  nearing  the  end  of 
his  earthly  pilgrimage. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
THE  MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA 

MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA  is  the  scientific  name  of  an 
industrious  and  interesting  little  animal  whose  habitat 
reaches  from  the  Carolinas  to  the  frozen  land  lying 
around  Hudson's  Bay,  and  from  New  York  state  to  the 
Pacific  coast. 

Mephitis  has  no  friends — none  whatever.  He  is 
hated  by  the  humblest  of  animals,  and  feared  by  the 
biggest  and  strongest,  including  the  grizzly  bear  him- 
self. He  works  mostly  by  night,  is  stealthy  in  his 
habits,  is  personally  very  cleanly. 

His  coat  is  black  and  white,  and  the  black  is  as  glossy 
as  satin.  He  has  a  small  head,  with  small  blinking 
eyes.  His  principal  adornment  is  a  very  showy  tail, 
which  tail  he  usually  carries  in  an  erect  position.  He 
is  a  sort  of  mammalian  peacock  as  he  walks  around 
with  his  tail  hoisted,  and  an  "  I-dare-you-to-knock-the- 
chip-off-my-shoulder  "  air,  and  every  other  animal,  even 
man  himself,  is  content  to  let  him  alone. 

This  description  is  deemed  necessary  by  reason  of 
some  happenings  that  have  lately  come  to  us  in  the 
pursuit  of  big  game;  and,  remember,  mephitis  is  not 


THE  MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA       287 

considered  "  game,"  either  big  or  little,  and  yet  he  is 
indeed  game  to  the  core. 

A  member  of  this  famous  species,  mephitis-mephitica, 
had  taken  possession  of  the  earth  beneath  the  floor  of 
our  first  cabin  on  the  Bear  Kiver,  and  as  she  was  like 
her  sisters  (for  this  one  was  a  female  and  a  mother  at 
that)  nocturnal  in  her  habits,  she  annoyed  us  very  much 
by  knocking  on  the  floor,  in  some  manner  unknown  to 
us,  at  sundry  times  in  the  night  loud  enough  to  awaken 
a  very  sound  sleeper,  and  none  of  us  took  credit  for 
being  anything  but  light  sleepers. 

Our  guide,  being  by  profession  a  trapper,  set  a  trap 
which  he  felt  sure  would  catch  the  oifender,  and  then 
he  and  the  writer  left  the  camp  to  be  gone  a  day  and 
a  night.  Dr.  W.  E.  Hughes,  our  genial  scientist, 
elected  to  remain  indoors,  as  he  was  a  bit  under  the 
weather.  Upon  our  return,  as  our  boat  rounded  a 
curve  in  the  river,  we  looked  up  to  the  cabin  which 
stands  on  the  brow  of  a  high  hill,  and  we  distinctly 
saw  a  vision  of  black  and  white  moving  with  rapidity. 

We  knew  at  a  glance  that  it  was  the  mephitis,  and 
that  she  was  in  the  trap.  Standing  in  the  doorway 
was  our  scientist  with  glasses  on,  watching  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  right  eye  the  gyrations  of  this  novel 
moving-picture  show. 

He  had  a  rifle  in  his  hand,  and  was  cogitating  deeply 
as  to  whether  he  could  shoot  the  top  of  the  agile 
mother's  head  off,  without  giving  her  a  chance  to 


288  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

"  shoot  "  him  with  her  peculiar  but  efficient  weapon  of 
defense  in  return.  The  look  upon  the  doctor's  face  was 
the  most  comical  that  I  ever  had  seen. 

The  doubt  he  was  in  was  clearly  shown  in  his  counte- 
nance, and  yet  there  was  an  expression  of  fear  upon  it ; 
fear  that  she  might  see  him  and  then,  without  let  or 
leave,  "  shoot  "  him. 

When  we  climbed  the  bank  and  came  to  the  door, 
we,  too,  became  possessed  of  a  strange  and  strained 
look.  A  council  was  held.  What  was  best  to  be  done ; 
risk  a  shot  ?  Kibbee  said  no,  declaring  if  the  shot  was 
not  successful  his  cabin  would  become  untenantable  for 
at  least  five  years.  Besides,  all  of  our  clothes  would 
be  ruined  in  the  "  mix-up,"  and,  as  we  didn't  have  many 
with  us,  this  decided  us  there  and  then. 

Kibbee  went  to  his  boat  and  fetched  up  the  canoe 
pole,  which  was  eleven  feet  long.  He  climbed  to  the 
top  of  the  cabin  and,  reaching  down  from  above,  he 
pried  open  the  trap,  and  Mrs.  Mephitis  when  released 
made  a  lightning  bound  down  the  bank  to  the  river- 
side, Kibbee,  our  crack  shot,  sending  a  bullet  after  her 
as  she  sped  away,  but  scoring  a  clean  miss. 

The  next  day  she  returned  to  look  after  her  kits, 
which  we,  for  some  reason  or  other,  believed  to  number 
eight,  although  we  never  saw  one  of  them.  It  is  true 
we  did  not  see  them,  but  didn't  we  hear  them  and 
smell  them  every  blessed  hour  ? 

Then  Dr.  Hughes  and  Kibbee  took  a  day  off,  and  the 


THE  MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA        289 

writer  spent  the  most  of  the  time  in  penning  some 
notes.  On  account  of  the  quiet  in  the  cabin,  Mrs.  Me- 
phitis thought  it  was  empty,  and  she  therefore  loped 
around  the  front,  but  always  kept  a  weather  eye  on 
the  front  door. 

"  Now,"  says  I  to  myself,  "  I'll  get  my  rifle,  lay  it  on 
the  table  cocked  and  ready  for  use,  and  the  first  time 
she  crosses  the  dead  line  of  five  yards  from  the  cabin 
I'll  blow  her  head  off  !  " 

All  of  that  afternoon  we  played  a  duel — you'll  ob- 
serve we  didn't  fight  one,  but  just  played  one — for 
she  kept  such  a  sharp  eye  upon  my  movements  that 
whenever  she  appeared  near  the  dead  line,  and  the 
slightest  move  on  my  part  was  made  to  elevate  the 
rifle,  like  a  flash  she  was  in  her  burrow  under  the 
cabin;  and  unto  the  end  of  our  stay  at  that  par- 
ticular cabin  she  was  really  "  monarch  of  all  she  sur- 
veyed." 

We  removed  from  the  Bear  Eiver  cabin  to  one  at 
Swan  Lake.  We  arrived  there  in  a  drenching  rain- 
storm, after  fighting  a  head  wind  for  several  miles. 
We  built  a  fire,  ate  our  supper,  and,  being  very  tired, 
we  went  to  bed  early.  It  might  be  well  to  say  right 
here  that  this  cabin  in  one  respect  was  like  most  of  the 
others,  in  that  everything  was  in  dire  confusion. 

It  seems  to  be  a  universal  practice  among  trappers 
to  leave  their  dishes  unwashed,  the  frying-pans,  buckets 
and  kettles  in  like  condition  and  everything  at  sixes 


290  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

and  sevens,  until  they  are  needed  again.  So,  while  the 
fire  was  burning  up  in  the  morning,  the  first  thing  in 
order — or  shall  we  say  "  disorder  "  ? — was  to  heat  water 
with  which  to  wash  up  and  clean  the  cabin  outfit. 

Trappers  tell  me  that  the  prime  necessity  in  their 
business  is  to  skin  and  stretch  the  hides  of  the  animals 
taken  in  the  daily  catch  along  the  trapping  lines. 
Everything  has  to  give  place  to  this  necessary,  but 
disagreeable,  portion  of  the  trapper's  trade.  In  Kib- 
bee's  words,  he  puts  it  this  way  :  "  You  see,  when 
I  get  to  cabin  at  night  it  may  have  been  a-rainin'  all 
day,  or  snowin',  and  my  catch  would  seem  to  weigh 
a  ton  on  my  back,  or  in  the  boat.  I  gets  into  the  cabin 
with,  say,  a  half  dozen  marten,  a  couple  of  lynx  and 
maybe  three  or  four  beavers.  That,  of  course,  would 
be  when  the  law  was  a-lettin'  of  us  catch  beaver. 

"  The  longer  the  catch  laid  without  bein'  skinned  the 
harder  it  would  be  to  get  the  hides  off.  So  we  have  no 
time  for  washin'  dishes  or  pans  or  kettles.  While  the 
water's  a-bilin'  I'm  a-skinnin'  of  the  pelts  as  hard  as  I 
can." 

So  now  you  will  please  imagine  that  in  this  cabin, 
ten  by  twelve  in  size,  you  see  a  bunk  large  enough  for 
one  man,  a  sheet-iron  stove,  kettles,  pots,  pans,  tin  cups, 
a  few  plates,  knives  and  forks,  stretchers  for  skins,  a 
bottle  of  patent  medicine  as  a  "  cure-all,"  scraps  of  rope, 
twine,  pieces  of  bags  and  bagging,  a  heavy  gray  blan- 
ket to  lie  on,  and  a  piece  of  sail-cloth  to  act  as  a  cover 


THE  MEPHITIS-MEPHU ICA        291 

for  the  sleeping  trapper,  who  generally  goes  to  rest 
with  his  clothes  on. 

On  this  night  of  which  I  am  writing,  the  dishes  and 
pans,  as  usual,  were  left  unwashed.  There  was  a  little 
cooked  rice  in  one  bucket  and  some  fried  moose  meat  in 
a  frying-pan  left  from  supper.  Kibbee  and  I  got  into  the 
bunk,  which  was  only  intended  for  one  person,  but  by 
sleeping  head  to  foot  we  managed  to  get  on  quite  well. 

Dr.  Hughes  was  on  the  floor  in  his  sleeping  bag,  one- 
half  of  which  extended  under  the  bunk,  while  the  other 
half  projected  out  until  it  nearly  touched  the  open  door- 
way. The  door  was  always  left  open,  that  being  the 
only  means  of  ventilation.  We  were  not  long  in  for- 
getting in  sleep  the  labors  of  the  day. 

About  midnight  Kibbee  kicked  me  in  the  head  with 
his  naked  foot  and  asked  if  I  could  find  my  electric 
bulb.  He  said  there  was  some  good-sized  animal 
prowling  around,  and  he  would  like  to  see  what  it  was. 

The  bulb  was  handed  to  him,  and  while  still  lying  in 
bed  he  pointed  the  electric  light  to  all  parts  of  the 
cabin  without  seeing  anything  particularly  dangerous. 
Two  rats  and  a  weasel  scampered  away,  or  perhaps  it 
was  only  two  mice  and  a  weasel,  for  things  look  large 
to  you  under  such  circumstances,  and  yet  the  expected 
larger  animal  was  not  to  be  seen. 

A  shaft  of  light  was  now  thrown  behind  the  open 
door.  Here  were  standing  two  rifles,  and  in  between 
and  behind  them  was  another  member  of  the  mephitis- 


292  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

mephitica  family  with  eyes  of  unusual  brilliancy  fixed 
right  upon  us. 

This  one  was  a  male,  and  he  was  crowded  back  so 
close  to  the  cabin  wall  that  his  famous  and  dreaded  tail 
could  not  be  held  erect,  because  there  wasn't  room  for 
it.  Kibbee,  the  "  scientist,"  and  the  writer  counseled 
as  to  what  was  best  to  be  done. 

Kibbee  said  that  if  left  alone  it  might  bite  one  of  our 
ears  or  noses  while  we  slept.  This,  the  scientist  said, 
was  but  "  the  fiction  of  a  diseased  brain,"  that  there 
was  no  case  on  record  of  any  such  happening.  Kibbee 
stuck  to  this  belief,  and  wanted  to  shoot  there  and 
then. 

He  said  that  when  he  was  a  boy,  his  father,  who 
lived  in  Montana,  used  to  dig  the  mephitis  out  of  his 
hole,  and  that  when  the  animal  first  saw  the  light  he 
would  turn  himself  around  with  his  tail  to  the  light. 
His  father  would  grab  the  tail  with  his  hand,  and, 
holding  the  animal  straight  up  by  his  caudal  appendage, 
he  would  chop  his  head  off  with  an  axe,  for  in  this 
position  the  mephitis  was  absolutely  harmless.  In 
proof  of  Kibbee's  assertion,  this  animal  was  even  now 
turning  his  tail  to  the  light. 

He  commenced  to  wriggle  himself  around  so  that 
his  head  would  be  against  the  front  of  the  cabin  and 
his  dangerous  tail  would  be  free ;  seeing  this,  Kibbee 
said  there  was  nothing  now  to  be  done  but  to  "  douse 
the  glim  "  and  sleep  it  out,  trusting  to  luck  to  awake 


THE  MEPHITIS-MEPHITICA        293 

next  morning  with  our  ears  and  noses  in  their  proper 
places  untouched  and  unharmed. 

The  scientist  said  there  wasn't  the  slightest  danger 
of  an  attack  from  the  black-and-white  beauty,  but  all 
the  same  he  was  very  careful  himself  to  put  his  head 
beneath  the  sheltering  folds  of  his  sleeping  bag. 

I  lay  awake  for  an  hour  or  more,  and  I  thought  I 
heard  Mr.  Mephitis  wending  his  way  out  from  behind 
the  door  and  then  nosing  around  the  scalp  and  hide  of 
our  big  caribou,  which  was  hanging  up  on  poles  outside. 
The  weasel,  the  rats  or  the  mice  came  back  and  rum- 
maged through  the  pots  and  pans  to  their  hearts'  con- 
tent— one  of  them  did  indeed  run  over  my  face,  and 
Dr.  Hughes  was  certain  that  one  ran  over  his  head,  but 
he  admitted  that  his  head  was  inside  of  the  bag. 

"  All's  well  that  ends  well,"  and  we  awoke  the  next 
morning  with  ears  and  noses  intact ;  with  the  never- 
ending  rain  pouring  down ;  with  the  wind  in  the  wrong 
quarter ;  with  a  loon  laughing  at  us  from  across  the 
thoroughfare;  with  a  red  squirrel  chattering  on  the 
roof  and  a  pair  of  camp  birds  pecking  scraps  of  fat 
from  the  hide  of  the  lone  bull  of  Sandy  Lake. 

For  those  who  never  heard  of  the  mephitis-mephitica, 
it  should  be  said  that  besides  his  classical  appellation, 
he  rejoices  in  two  common  names,  by  either  of  which 
you  may  call  him  and  he  will  not  be  offended.  In 
some  parts  of  the  country  he  goes  by  the  name  of  pole- 
cat ;  out  here  his  regular  name  is  skunk. 


CHAPTEK  XXVII 

PERILS  AND  HARDSHIPS  THAT  MUST  BE 
ENDURED 

DR.  HUGHES  and  I  were  anxious  to  make  a  trip 
either  from  the  Bear  River  to  the  mighty  Frazer  River, 
or  by  way  of  the  Goat  River  trail,  a  distance  of  sixty 
miles,  from  Bear  Lake  to  the  Upper  Frazer  ;  in  either 
event  to  canoe  down  the  Frazer  to  Quesnelle  where  we 
would  take  the  steamer  for  Soda  Creek,  and  there  catch 
the  stage  for  Ashcroft. 

On  the  stage  to  Barkerville  we  met  a  bright,  courte- 
ous and  intelligent  Englishman,  who  was  a  "squaw 
man,"  that  is,  he  had  married  a  Si  wash  Indian  woman. 

He  recommended  us  to  arrange  for  a  couple  of 
Indians  with  a  boat  to  paddle  us  down  the  Frazer  to 
Quesnelle.  This  man  said  that  the  Goat  River  trail 
was  a  bad  one.  The  mountains  on  each  side  were  said 
to  be  much  frequented  by  mountain  goats  and  bears. 

On  our  arrival  at  Quesnelle  we  arranged  with  the 
manager  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  that  when  we 
reached  Barkerville,  if  we  could  get  men  and  horses  to 
go  through  with  us  by  the  Goat  River  route  to  the 
Frazer,  we  would  wire  him  to  have  the  Indian  helpers 
ready. 

At  Barkerville  we  failed  to  find  any  one  that  had 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    295 

the  slightest  desire  to  make  the  trip,  and  money  did 
not  seem  to  tempt  them.  The  route  had  such  a  bad 
name  from  disasters  to  previous  expeditions,  that  we 
reluctantly  had  to  give  up  the  project,  although  the 
doctor  and  I  would  have  gladly  walked  the  entire 
distance  and  carried  a  light  pack  into  the  bargain. 
Still  it  was  imperative  that  we  should  have  horses  to 
carry  the  provisions,  clothing,  etc.,  and  men  owning 
the  horses  didn't  care  about  risking  them  on  the  trail. 

The  next  thing  we  tried  was  to  find  some  one 
familiar  with  the  Lower  Bear  River,  to  go  down  with 
us  either  in  a  boat  or  canoe  to  its  mouth,  where  it  en- 
ters the  Frazer  River.  There  are  two  bad  canyons  in 
the  Bear  Eiver  which  at  certain  stages  of  the  water  are 
dangerous.  One  man  who  went  through  four  years  ago 
told  us  that  no  money  could  hire  him  to  undertake  it 
again. 

There  were  accounts  of  another  man  who  had  made 
his  will  before  risking  the  trip,  and  yet  he  came  out 
alive ;  of  another  who  had  swamped,  but  was  saved. 
This  man  we  met — a  strong,  robust  young  fellow.  He 
agreed  with  us  that  if  we  would  pay  for  a  new  boat 
and  give  him  ten  dollars  per  day  he  would  take  us 
through  to  the  Frazer  by  way  of  the  Bear  River.  We 
therefore  engaged  him,  and  he  promised  faithfully  to 
meet  us  at  the  mouth  of  Bear  Lake  on  September  26th 
to  start  on  the  following  morning. 

In  accordance  with  this  agreement,  Dr.  Hughes  and 


296  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

the  writer  left  the  Upper  Bear  River  on  Saturday  the 
25th,  and  arrived  at  noon  at  the  main  cabin  at  the 
mouth  of  Bear  Lake.  No  word,  however,  had  as  yet 
come  from  our  man,  so  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to 
wait. 

On  Sunday  afternoon,  while  waiting  for  the  guide  to 
appear  with  his  boat,  Dr.  Hughes  and  the  writer  took 
a  stroll  down  the  tract  for  a  distance  of  four  and  a 
half  miles.  We  then  sat  down  about  one  hundred  yards 
apart  as  we  had  crossed  several  fresh  bear  trails  on  the 
way,  and  the  surroundings  looked  more  like  business 
with  bears  than  anything  that  we  had  yet  seen. 

I  might  say  right  here  that  so  far,  in  spite  of  our 
hard  and  earnest  daily  work  and  that,  too,  without  any 
let-up  on  account  of  the  rain,  snow,  hail  or  sleet,  for 
the  weather  had  been  extremely  wet,  we  had  not  yet 
seen  a  bear,  either  grizzly  or  black.  The  willow  brush, 
which  flourishes  in  wanton  growth  on  each  side  of  the 
running  streams,  formed  an  impenetrable  screen,  be- 
hind which  a  prowling  bear  might  be  as  safe  from 
discovery  and  attack  as  if  it  were  at  the  North  Pole. 

There  are  no  roads  of  any  kind  in  this  country  and 
no  trails,  excepting  those  made  by  beaver  and  bear. 
The  beaver  trails  do  not  run  very  far,  and  those  made 
by  the  bears  after  leaving  the  sandy  edge  of  the  streams 
are  not  well  marked  when  the  big  woods  are  reached, 
for  bruin  has  a  habit  of  walking  on  the  tops  of  logs, 
thus  causing  great  gaps  in  his  trail. 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    297 

The  doctor  and  the  writer  sat  near  to  the  burnt 
land  until  it  became  dark  without  seeing  anything 
whatever,  and  we  very  reluctantly  retraced  our  steps 
to  the  cabin.  On  the  walk  back  we  heard  two  rifle 
shots  fired  on  the  river,  and  we  surmised  that  they 
were  signal  shots  fired  by  our  guide  for  the  Lower  Bear 
River  journey.  "We  sat  up  quite  late,  expecting  him  to 
arrive  at  any  minute,  but  he  failed  to  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance. 

The  following  morning  there  was  no  word  or  sight 
of  him,  so  we  reluctantly  gave  him  up,  and  the  pro- 
posed fateful  journey  down  the  Bear  River  as  well. 
This  was  a  great  disappointment  to  us,  as  we  had  raised 
our  hopes  to  a  high  pinnacle  of  future  success  in  canoe- 
ing down  the  two  rivers,  and  to  see  them  drop  like  a 
house  of  cards  vexed  us  sorely. 

It  had  been  agreed  that  in  case  the  man  did  fail  us 
Dr.  Hughes  would  take  Kibbee  and  another  man  with 
horses  and  travel  to  Indian  Point  Lake.  Moose  were 
said  to  frequent  that  lake  and  a  smaller  body  of  water 
named  Beaver  Lake.  Then,  after  hunting  around  these 
two  pieces  of  water,  Kibbee  and  the  doctor  would  climb 
a  high  mountain — as  yet  unnamed — in  search  of  moun- 
tain goats,  while  a  boatman  was  to  go  with  me  back  to 
the  Upper  Bear  River  again. 

So  Neil,  the  boatman,  and  the  writer  pushed  off 
early  in  the  morning  in  the  face  of  a  fierce  wind  blow- 
ing straight  in  our  faces.  Dr.  Hughes  and  Kibbee 


298  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

started  down  toward  the  burnt  land  to  round  up  the 
horses  at  the  same  time. 

So  far  the  doctor  had  not  even  had  a  shot  at  game 
of  any  kind,  with  the  exception  of  his  killing  a 
mephitis-mephitica,  and  that  couldn't  be  called  game 
by  the  widest  stretch  of  courtesy.  It  is,  however, 
most  always  that  the  unexpected  happens  in  hunting. 
The  two  men  walked  along  the  beaten  horse  trail 
following  the  river,  looking  and  listening  for  the 
horses. 

They  had  passed  the  spot  by  about  a  mile  where  we 
had  sat  watching  during  the  afternoon  of  the  day  be- 
fore, when  they  saw  something  like  a  ball  of  fur  run 
up  a  cotton  wood  tree,  followed  by  another  ball  of  the 
same  kind  of  fur.  The  two  climbing  balls  were  in 
reality  two  black  bear  cubs. 

Kibbee  warned  the  doctor  to  look  out  for  the  mother 
and  not  to  worry  about  the  cubs.  She  was  finally  dis- 
covered squatting  contentedly  and  eating  with  ap- 
parent gusto  the  big  luscious  blueberries  from  a  heavily- 
laden  bush,  which  she  held  in  her  front  paws. 

Our  good  friend,  Dr.  Hughes,  has  wide  fame  among 
doctors  as  a  diagnostician.  I  am  informed  that  the 
first  qualification  for  a  good  diagnostician  is  a  calm  and 
even  disposition.  Such  a  man  must  never  show  worry 
or  haste ;  he  must  be  careful,  deliberate  and  thought- 
ful, and  he  must  positively  be  discreet,  and  our  doctor 
has  all  of  these  necessary  adjuncts  developed  to  the 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    299 

fullest  extent.  Please  now  note  the  following  narra- 
tive as  told  by  his  companion  Kibbee : 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  ever  seed  such  a  cool,  unnervous, 
unexcitable  man  as  that  there  Dr.  Hughes  is.  When 
we  spied  the  old  she  bear  fust  she  was  a-sittin'  on  her 
haunches  eatin'  blueberries  in  big  mouthfuls.  As  she 
crushed  them  in  her  mouth  the  juice  would  squirt  out 
of  each  side  of  her  jaws,  and  she  never  noticed  us  ;  she 
was  too  busy  lickin'  her  chops  and  pullin'  the  berries 
off 'n  the  bushes. 

"  The  doctor  has  two  sets  of  glasses — one  for  shootin' 
and  the  other  for  walkin'.  As  soon  as  he  seed  her  he 
deliberately  takes  off  his  walkin'  glasses  and  puts  them 
into  a  case  and  puts  that  case  into  his  left  vest  pocket. 
Then  he  takes  outen  his  right  vest  pocket  his  other 
glasses,  also  in  a  case.  That  case  was  tied  by  a  piece 
of  string  in  a  knot. 

"  He  unties  the  string,  rolls  it  up  and  puts  it  in  his 
pocket,  opens  the  case,  takes  out  the  glasses,  puts  them 
on  and  then  carefully  puts  the  case  back  into  the  right- 
hand  pocket  of  his  vest.  He  next  raises  the  rifle, 
sights  it  at  the  old  bear,  a  still  settin'  on  her  haunches, 
pulls  the  trigger  and,  jimminy  crickets,  the  old  gal 
rolls  over  dead. 

"  Then  he  and  me  got  mixed  up  with  the  two  cubs ; 
for  in  place  of  shootin'  at  the  two  we  only  shot  at  one, 
and  the  other  got  lost  in  the  shuffle." 

They  skinned  the  two   bears  as  speedily  as   they 


300          WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

could,  and,  leaving  the  carcasses  where  they  lay,  the 
search  for  the  horses  was  resumed,  and  they  were 
finally  found  fourteen  miles  down  the  river.  By  the 
time  they  were  brought  back,  the  bear  hides  picked  up 
and  all  had  arrived  at  the  cabin  the  day  was  far  ad- 
vanced. A  hasty  meal  was  eaten,  the  horses  were 
loaded  and  late  in  the  afternoon  they  started  on  their 
mountain  trip. 

At  the  two  small  lakes  plenty  of  tracks  of  moose 
were  seen,  but  no  moose.  The  mountain  was  climbed 
with  considerable  difficulty  and  not  a  little  privation. 
A  night  was  spent  above  the  timber  line,  where  the 
cold  was  very  severe  and  the  snow  was  deep  and  soft, 
and  where  they  couldn't  get  any  water  to  drink  or  in 
which  to  boil  their  rice.  When  daylight  once  more 
greeted  them  they  were  hungry  and  cold,  and,  being 
without  food,  the  doctor,  like  Falstaff  indeed  might 
have  said :  "  My  belly's  as  cold  as  if  I  had  swallowed 
snowballs  for  pills." 

Kibbee  had  dinned  the  doctor's  ears  with  stories  of 
the  multitudes  of  whistling  marmots  which  they  would 
find  upon  the  mountain,  and  you  know  the  skins  of 
these  interesting  animals  make  a  fur  that  is  much  in 
request  by  fair  dames  for  automobile  coats  or  wraps. 
Alack-a-day,  another  disappointment,  for  the  whistling 
marmots  were  all — every  one  of  them — holed  up  for 
the  winter,  and  the  hunters  couldn't  possibly  wait  until 
spring  should  come. 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    301 

As  for  mountain  goats,  neither  the  goats  nor  their 
tracks  could  be  seen  with  plain  eye-glasses,  or  the  most 
powerful  binoculars,  and  they  were  constrained  to  re- 
turn on  the  following  Sunday  night,  without  game  of 
any  kind  outside  of  the  rich  experience  which  they 
had. 

It  had  been  agreed  that  Drs.  Eoe,  Dr.  Hughes  and 
the  writer  should  all  come  together  again  on  Sunday, 
the  3d  day  of  October,  as  the  Eoe  brothers  were  to 
start  for  home  on  the  Monday  morning  following.  I 
expected  that  Dr.  Hughes  would  stay  over  with  me  for 
yet  another  stage. 

Dr.  Hughes  finally  decided  that  he  must  go  with 
the  other  two  hunters,  and  the  writer  was  equally 
determined  that  he  would  stay  until  the  next  stage, 
and  leave  early  on  the  following  Thursday  morning, 
hoping  in  the  meantime  that  he  might  be  able  to  see 
and  to  get  a  shot  at  a  grizzly.  That  having  been  the 
prime  object  of  the  trip,  he  was  loath  to  leave  without 
its  accomplishment. 

Therefore,  according  to  program,  the  other  three 
hunters  were  off  at  an  early  hour  Monday  morning  to 
cross  the  trail  to  Barkerville,  taking  all  six  horses  with 
them,  and  also  a  telegram  to  be  forwarded  to  Phila- 
delphia that  I  would  be  out  by  the  following  stage. 

The  writer's  mind  had  been  for  a  couple  of  days 
centred  upon  the  possibility  that  the  carcass  of  the 
black  bear  which  was  still  lying  on  the  burnt  land  five 


302  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

and  a  half  miles  down  the  river  might  by  this  time 
have  become  putrid  enough  to  attract  some  roving 
grizzly  to  feed  upon  it,  or  to  cover  it  up,  according  to 
bear  custom,  for  future  use. 

So,  even  before  his  comrades  started,  he  bid  them 
farewell,  and  was  off  to  the  burnt  land.  A  copious 
rain  during  the  night  had  made  the  willow  brush  very 
wet,  so  that  when  the  scene  of  the  black  bear's  last 
feast  of  blueberries  was  reached,  he  was  wet  through 
and  through.  In  addition,  a  high  wind  was  blowing 
down  the  river,  and  he  was  thus  liable  to  do  more  harm 
than  good  in  watching  for  a  bear  which  would  be  pretty 
certain  to  get  his  scent.  Therefore,  he  returned  to  the 
cabin  at  noontime.  Kibbee,  in  the  afternoon,  went 
down  the  river  in  the  boat  to  see  if  there  were  any 
fresh  signs  and  returned  without  having  seen  any. 

Tuesday  morning  both  of  us  were  off  at  daybreak, 
and  when  the  burnt  land  was  reached  we  found  the 
carcass  of  the  black  bear  yet  unmolested.  I  had  lunch 
with  me,  and  having  found  a  spot  in  a  corner  formed 
by  two  large  logs  lying  at  right  angles,  where  the 
carcass  was  in  plain  sight,  I  fixed  up  a  comfortable  seat 
and  prepared  to  spend  the  day  there ;  Kibbee,  in  the 
meantime,  going  down  the  river  some  fourteen  miles  to 
visit  a  half-breed,  upon  whose  territory  we  were  hunting. 

Nothing  happened  during  the  day  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  violent  thunder  and  hail  storm  that  moved 
down  a  valley  behind  a  high  range  of  mountains  to 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    303 

Bear  Lake,  and  then  suddenly  turned  and  swept  down 
the  river  with  a  furious  clatter  and  roar. 

Having  seen  it  coming,  I  prepared  by  pulling  a 
rubber  blanket  over  me,  and  weighting  it  down  with 
the  rifle.  The  storm  was  perhaps  fifteen  minutes  in 
passing  and  left  in  its  wake  on  the  ground  over  an 
inch  of  hailstones.  For  lunch,  cold  boiled  rice  brought 
along  in  a  tin  pail  and  plenty  of  big  blueberries  satisfied 
my  hunger. 

The  day  wore  on,  and  when  the  wind  commenced 
to  blow  in  gusts  I  reluctantly  turned  my  steps  once 
more  toward  the  cabin,  but  before  it  was  reached 
another  rain  and  hail  storm  deluged  the  land. 

Wednesday  morning  dawned  bright  and  clear,  and 
once  more  we  were  off  to  the  land  of  blueberries  and 
bear  meat.  Before  getting  to  the  carcass  we  discovered 
with  great  joy  that  during  the  night  a  grizzly  bear  had 
been  there ;  that  it  had  removed  the  carcass  to  a 
place  where  it  had  covered  or  cached  it  with  soft 
earth  and  leaves.  Indeed  we  had  probably  scared  it 
away  as  the  carcass  was  left  but  partly  covered. 

We  were  to  start  out  over  the  trail  on  the  following 
morning,  Thursday.  It  seemed  best,  therefore,  for 
Kibbee  to  go  down  the  river  bench  until  he  could 
corral  three  horses  to  take  us  out  to  Barkerville,  and 
for  me  to  lie  concealed  near  the  carcass  until  his  return. 
It  may  be  easily  imagined  that  I  was  all  eyes  for  a 
moving  object  of  any  kind. 


304  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  hours  dragged  slowly  along  during  the  fore- 
noon, and  nothing  appeared  to  divert  the  mind  ex- 
cepting a  very  large  flock  of  that  lively  little  bird,  the 
crested  flycatcher.  These  birds  flew  from  tree  to 
tree,  backward  and  forward,  for  an  hour  or  more, 
their  numbers  constantly  augmenting,  until  at  a  signal 
from  one  or  more  of  the  leaders  among  them  they  all, 
to  the  number  of  hundreds,  started  on  a  flight  to  the 
southland.  Another  cold  lunch  of  boiled  rice  was 
eaten,  and  the  afternoon  arrived  ;  still  no  signs  of  any- 
thing exciting. 

Finally  I  saw  a  swaying  willow  bush,  and  then 
another,  and  yet  another.  Mentally  I  said  :  "  At  last, 
at  last,  I'm  to  have  a  shot."  The  hammer  of  the  rifle 
was  pulled  back,  and,  expecting  to  see  a  bear  every- 
instant,  I  was  on  the  keen  edge  of  suspense,  when  the 
agile  form  of  Kibbee  came  into  view.  He  had  been 
making  Jiis  way  up  to  me  as  swiftly  and  as  silently  as 
he  could. 

The  horses  he  had  left  a  piece  down  the  trail,  so  as 
not  to  disturb  things  if  any  game  was  within  sight  or 
hearing.  The  time  was  half-past  three  in  the  after- 
noon. It  looked  as  if  another  great  storm  were  brew- 
ing, for  the  wind  was  already  gathering  quite  a  veloc- 
ity, and,  although  I  had  come  prepared  to  lie  out  all 
night,  the  certainty  of  a  windy  and  stormy  period  de- 
cided us  against  such  a  plan. 

This  was  now  the  last  day,  and  the  chances  were 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    305 

as  a  thousand  to  one  that  I  would  have  to  return  home 
without  a  grizzly.  We  discussed  ways  and  means  for 
some  few  minutes,  and  then  it  was  decided  to  build 
a  structure  out  of  saplings  and  logs,  and  in  its  furthest 
part  to  place  the  now  loud-smelling  bear  meat.  Then 
to  strap  a  rifle  to  two  cross-bars  so  firmly  fixed  that 
if  the  trigger  was  touched  the  rifle  would  be  fired 
and  there  would  be  no  recoil.  If  the  bear  should  re- 
turn and  enter  the  improvised  bear  den  there  might  be 
one  chance  in  fifty  that  he  would  get  shot  before  he 
would  be  able  to  retreat. 

Therefore,  the  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  drag 
the  carcass  over  to  the  butt  end  of  a  blown  down  tree, 
then  saplings  and  logs  were  placed  around  it  in  an  A 
shape,  with  guiding  pieces  of  brush  or  saplings  to  con- 
tinually narrow  the  space  as  the  bear  crawled  in. 

Guides  were  fixed  overhead  to  compel  the  bear  to 
get  down  on  all  fours  and  then  on  his  belly,  in  order 
to  reach  the  meat  with  his  front  paws.  Right  in  front 
of  the  meat,  and  fixed  perpendicularly,  was  the  rifle, 
with  the  muzzle  left  just  high  enough  to  clear  the 
animal  in  its  struggle  to  reach  the  carcass.  One  end 
of  a  cord  was  attached  to  the  carcass  while  the  other 
end  was  fastened  to  the  trigger  of  the  rifle,  and  the 
trigger  was  set. 

When  all  this  was  done,  and  the  ground  cleared  of 
bits  of  chopped  sticks,  etc.,  everything  was  in  readi- 
ness for  a  possible  visit  from  the  bear  that  had  that 


306  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

very  morning  taken  possession  of  the  decaying 
carcass. 

It  was  believed  by  both  of  us  that  if  the  threatened 
storm  did  break  it  would,  of  course,  effectually  destroy 
our  scent,  and  there  would  be  a  chance  of  the  bear 
crawling  into  the  artificial  den  and  getting  in  range 
with  the  bullet  by  creeping  forward  on  his  belly  and 
reaching  out  with  his  paws ;  but  if  it  shouldn't  rain,  then 
nothing  would  be  doing  and  I  should  be  compelled  to 
return  empty-handed  as  far  as  a  bear  was  concerned. 
So  we  left  for  the  night  and  led  the  horses  along  with 
us,  arriving  at  the  cabin  some  time  after  dark. 

We  sat  down  to  supper,  but  before  a  bite  was  eaten 
a  flash  of  vivid  lightning  and  a  peal  of  thunder  startled 
and  rejoiced  us.  These  were  followed  by  another  hail- 
storm and  then  a  deluge  of  rain,  and,  listening  to  its 
pattering  on  the  roof,  we  retired  to  rest,  anxious  as  to 
what  the  morning  light  would  develop  down  on  the 
blueberry  barren. 

I  was  up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  packed 
all  of  my  belongings  in  the  dunnage  bags,  ready  for 
the  packhorses.  When  this  was  done  breakfast  was 
ready,  and  it  was  not  long  before  Kibbee,  Duffy  (the 
half-breed  trapper)  and  the  writer  were  off  for  the  bear 
ground,  to  see  what  it  had  in  store  for  us. 

Kibbee  led  the  way  and  took  an  easy  pace,  making 
no  noise  whatever  as  he  slid  along  ahead  of  us.  When 
we  got  in  sight  of  the  "  contraption,"  however,  he 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    307 

stopped  and  we  all  looked  in  every  direction  to  see  if 
there  was  anything  moving,  but  all  was  still.  Then  he 
was  off  to  our  novel  trap  at  a  lively  gait.  We  soon 
heard  a  yell  from  him. 

"We've  got  her  and  she's  a  grizzly  for  sure,  and 
she's  still  warm,"  he  cried.  We  were  there  in  no  time, 
and  there,  indeed,  she  was,  jammed  in  so  tight  in  order 
to  get  at  her  breakfast  that  we  couldn't  turn  her,  but 
the  three  of  us  dragged  her  out  and  viewed  her  over. 

She  had  been  killed  instantly  ;  the  bullet  had  passed 
downward  between  her  shoulders,  and  had  pierced 
her  heart  and  liver ;  she  hadn't  moved  after  being  shot. 

The  two  trappers  pronounced  her  to  be  a  four-year- 
old  female  grizzly,  and  said  she  had  never  been  a 
mother,  and  consequently  she  was  just  rolling  in  fat. 
We  removed  about  sixty  pounds  of  this  white  and 
beautiful  looking  fat  from  her  back  and  shoulders  and 
about  ten  pounds  from  the  intestines. 

The  skin  was  a  very  heavy  one,  but  somewhat  worn 
on  the  haunches  from  sitting  down  while  feeding  on 
the  rich  bunches  of  blueberries. 

Kibbee  carefully  removed  the  gall  bladder,  which 
is  much  in  demand  by  Chinamen  as  a  cure  for  indiges- 
tion, and  for  which  they  will  readily  pay  from  $1.50 
to  $2.00.  With  one  man  carrying  the  fat  and  the 
other  the  hide,  we  left  the  burnt  land  at  half -past  ten. 

Now  a  heavy  grizzly  hide  is  not  an  easy  thing  to 
carry  and  neither  is  seventy  pounds  of  fat,  so  we  had 


308  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

a  tedious  journey  to  the  cabin.  To  my  surprise  the 
hide  was  literally  alive  with  lice,  great  big  ones,  and 
these  had  got  inside  our  clothing — even  down  into  our 
boots.  They  were  something  of  the  size  and  appear- 
ance of  bedbugs,  only  they  were  more  lively.  They 
didn't  bite  or  worry  us  excepting  that  their  crawling 
propensities  were  very  unpleasant. 

The  hide  was  chucked  into  a  coffee  sack  so  as  to  get 
rid  of  the  creeping  pests.  In  less  than  ten  minutes, 
the  outside  of  the  bag  was  alive  with  them  ;  how  they 
managed  to  crawl  through  the  meshes  no  one  could 
imagine.  At  Barkerville  the  bundle  was  incased  in 
yet  another  sack — this  time  a  finer  woven  one,  but 
still  they  managed  to  get  through  both  sacks. 

Five  days  afterward,  when  packing  our  stuff  into  a 
big  trunk  at  Ashcroft,  they  were  yet  in  evidence. 
When  the  trunk  finally  arrived  at  its  destination,  in 
Philadelphia,  fourteen  days  after  leaving  Bear  Lake, 
there  wasn't  a  sign  of  one  anywhere  to  be  seen. 
They  had  got  out  of  the  trunk  and  no  doubt  had 
spread  themselves  out  in  platoons  in  the  baggage-car. 

After  getting  everything  in  readiness  for  breaking 
camp  that  last  day  at  Bear  Lake,  we  made  a  hurried 
meal,  saddled  the  horses,  boated  the  stuff  to  be 
"  packed  "  out  on  horseback  across  the  river,  swam  and 
waded  the  horses  over,  and  then  put  the  last  finishing 
touches  to  the  packs.  At  1 :  30  p.  M.,  we  touched  the 
horses  with  the  lithe  willow  brush  branches  and  were 


PERILS  THAT  MUST  BE  ENDURED    309 

off  for  home,  and  the  hunting  trip  of  1909  was  a  thing 
of  the  past. 

"  The  trails  of  the  world  be  countless,  and  most  of  the 

trails  be  tried  : 
You  tread  on  the  heels  of  the  many,  till  you  come 

where  the  ways  divide  : 
And  one  lies  safe  in  the  sunlight,  and  the  other  is 

dreary  and  wan  : 
Yet  you  look  aslant  at  the  lone  trail,  and  the  lone  trail 

lures  you  on. 
And  somehow  you're  sick  of  the  highway,  with  its 

noise  and  its  easy  needs, 
And  you  seek  the  risk  of  the  byway,  and  you  reck  not 

where  it  leads. " 


CHAPTEK  XXYI1I 
AN  EXCITING  TRIP  THROUGH  A  NEW  COUNTRY 

WE  got  under  way  on  the  outward  trip  upon  a  day 
that  looked  "  all  to  the  good  "  so  far  as  the  weather 
was  concerned,  but  in  the  particular  section  of  British 
Columbia  that  had  been  our  stamping  ground  for  six 
weeks  there  was  really  no  such  thing  as  predicting 
what  sort  of  weather  it  would  be,  even  for  such  a  short 
period  as  an  hour  or  more. 

It  is  hard  to  describe  this  trail,  because  there  is  noth- 
ing that  I  have  ever  seen  in  the  East  to  compare  it 
with.  It  follows  along  the  shore  of  Bear  Lake  for  a 
few  hundred  yards,  at  times  making  a  slight  excursion 
into  the  woods  where  the  water  on  the  shore  of  the 
lake  is  too  deep  for  the  horses  to  wade,  and  then  out 
again. 

When  the  trail  leaves  the  lake  finally,  it  does  so  at 
right  angles,  and  for  about  five  miles  it  meanders 
through  burnt  land,  where  the  fallen  trees  have  been 
sawed  through  twice,  so  as  to  cut  out  a  pathway  about 
three  feet  wide. 

The  horse  which  I  rode  was  a  cayuse,  blind  in  one 
eye — the  right  eye.  With  his  good  left  eye  he  saw  to 
it  that  he  didn't  get  near  the  points  of  the  logs  as  we 
wound  around  in  a  serpentine  way.  The  other  side, 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  31 1 

however,  he  couldn't  see,  and  so  he  was  almost  contin- 
ually running  into  logs  which  faced  us  and  logs  which 
paralleled  our  path,  and  my  shin,  knee  and  right  leg 
were  soon  bruised  and  scarred. 

The  trail  wound  ever  upward,  until  the  peak  of  the 
first  mountain  was  reached,  and  then,  without  any  pre- 
monition, it  started  down  again  at  such  a  pitch  that 
the  horses  had  to  slide  a  little  of  the  way.  At  the  bot- 
tom there  was  of  a  truth  a  canyon — dark,  moist  and 
deep. 

The  trail  led  up  the  side  of  the  next  mountain,  in 
places  hanging  on  like  a  thread.  The  storms  of  the 
few  previous  days  had  blown  down  many  trees  over 
our  pathway,  and  it  was  necessary  to  chop  these  into 
two  sections  and  cast  them  down  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain before  we  could  pass. 

The  government  land  commissioner  at  Barkerville, 
George  W.  Walker,  had  with  rare  courtesy  and  fore- 
thought sent  a  man  out  over  the  trail  a  week  before  to 
cut  out  the  dead  falls,  for  our  convenience,  or  else  our 
difficulties  would  have  been  much  more  serious  than 
they  were.  Before  darkness  overtook  us  we  counted 
one  hundred  and  five  obstructions  that  had  been  cut 
through  with  a  cross-cut  saw  and  removed. 

A  second  peak  having  been  scaled,  down  we  went 
again — "  Down,  down  among  the  dead  men,"  as  the 
old  song  says — and  at  the  bottom  of  the  canyon  we 
struck  green  timber,  and  dense  darkness  enveloped  us. 


312  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

The  trail  was  now  over  rocks,  and  slippery  with  run- 
ning water  flowing  in  tiny  streams  among  them.  Mud 
of  the  stickiest  kind  was  encountered ;  the  horse,  in- 
stead of  jamming  my  right  leg  against  logs  which 
sometimes  would  move,  now  ran  me  into  large  boulders 
that  had  fallen  down  from  the  side  of  the  mountain 
and  lodged  on  the  trail. 

The  saddle  was  too  wide  -for  me  to  ride  in  comfort, 
and  it  seemed  best  to  dismount  and  walk.  Fortunately 
the  cayuse  was  white,  and  by  keeping  close  up  to  him 
I  could  be  guided  by  his  color ;  but  it  was  a  continual 
series  of  stumbles,  first  for  the  horse  and  then  for  myself. 

As  for  the  mud,  it  covered  my  trousers  and  tall 
leather  boots.  Kibbee  kept  on  ahead,  singing  blithely 
to  cheer  up  old  "  Maud,"  the  packhorse.  Three  times 
the  wise  old  horse  stopped  when  the  tips  of  the  caribou 
antlers  struck  against  an  obstruction  overhead.  Each 
was  a  tree  that  had  blown  down  across  the  trail,  but 
had  lodged  against  other  trees.  It  was  necessary  to 
feel  for  the  trees  in  the  darkness  and  then  cut  them  out 
with  the  axe,  and  all  the  while  "  Maud  "  stood  like  a 
statue. 

There's  an  end  to  all  bad  roads  and  trails,  as  there 
was  to  this  one.  The  night  had  become  very  cold,  and 
when  we  emerged  from  the  trail  into  the  stage  road 
running  into  Barkerville  the  muddy  road  had  frozen 
over  in  places  and  everywhere  the  mud  was  stiff,  and 
after  stumbling  over  it  for  three  miles,  the  lights  from 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  313 

the  famous  gold  mining  town  were,  indeed,  welcome 
sights. 

When  we  drew  up  in  front  of  the  hotel,  Dr.  W.  J. 
Koe  was  discovered  sitting  alongside  of  the  big  stove 
in  his  stocking  feet.  We  asked  him  to  give  us  a  lift  in 
unloading  the  packhorse.  His  only  answer  was  to 
shake  his  head. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you ;  have  you  lost  both 
your  father  and  your  mother  ?  "  we  asked  him,  and  yet 
not  an  intelligible  word  came  from  him.  It  developed 
that  he  had  but  a  few  minutes  before  returned  from  an 
arduous  ride  and  tramp  after  a  wounded  grizzly,  and 
that  he  was  so  tired  and  done  up  that  articulate  speech 
was  a  hardship  for  him. 

On  the  previous  Wednesday,  a  hunter  had  killed  a 
caribou  on  Agnes  Mountain  and  had  taken  away  the 
head  and  hide,  leaving  the  meat  to  be  carried  down  by 
some  Chinamen  the  following  day.  When  the  Orien- 
tals found  the  carcass  in  the  morning  the}'-  fled  precipi- 
tately down  the  side  of  the  mountain,  back  to  Barker- 
ville,  and  gave  out  the  startling  information  that  no 
less  than  five  bears  were  feeding  upon  the  meat. 

The  spokesman  said,  "Belly  too  much  bear — tree 
brownie  bear — tree  blackie  bear — one  white  bear,"  but 
this  made  seven,  instead  of  five.  The  hunter  and  his 
guide  mounted  a  pair  of  saddle  horses  when  they  heard 
this  news,  and  away  they  started  after  the  bear  con- 
vention. 


314  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Sure  enough,  they  did  see  one  bear  when  they  came 
in  sight  of  the  dead  caribou ;  it  was  a  grizzly,  and  the 
bullets  flew  thick  and  fast  as  the  beast  fled  before 
them.  They  wounded  the  bear  in  the  right  hip,  and 
the  men  returned,  much  crestfallen,  without  him. 

The  hunter  who  had  shot  it  decided  to  go  out  for 
home  by  the  stage  that  day,  as  he  said  his  time  was  up, 
and  his  guide  then  laid  siege  to  our  "  W.  J.,"  asking 
him  to  postpone  his  going  until  the  _next  trip  of  the 
stage  and  to  accompany  him  upon  an  expedition  in 
search  of  the  wounded  bear. 

This  project  looked  good  to  our  comrade.  They 
mutually  clasped  hands  upon  the  proposition,  got  a  pair 
of  trusty  horses,  some  grub,  and  on  Tuesday  morning 
off  they  went,  full  of  hope  and  enthusiasm.  The  trail 
of  the  bear  was  easily  found  by  the  quantity  of  blood 
which  he  had  lost,  but  it  was  not  so  easy  to  hold,  as 
the  bleeding  was  not  by  any  means  continuous. 

It  led  them  to  the  peak  of  the  mountain  and  then 
downward.  The  men  tethered  their  horses  near  the 
top  and  followed  it  around  and  around  the  sides  of  the 
mountain ;  it  seemed  to  be  continually  descending. 
This  made  the  hunters  believe  that  its  wound  prevented 
it  from  going  upward,  and  that  its  only  recourse  was 
to  go  down ;  so  they  went  down  until  darkness  nearly 
overtook  them,  and,  of  course,  a  climb  back  again  to 
the  horses  was  necessary,  the  climb  being  a  distance  of 
fifteen  hundred  feet. 


L_ 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  315 

When  the  horses  were  at  last  found  and  mounted 
they  managed  to  get  down  the  steep  declivity  by  walk- 
ing some  and  sliding  more,  and  the  first  day's  quest 
was  a  failure. 

The  second  day  almost  the  same  program  was  fol- 
lowed. In  some  tall  grass  the  bear's  bed  of  the 
night  before  was  discovered,  and  everything  looked 
hopeful,  but  again  the  day's  work  ended  in  a  complete 
failure. 

Thursday  they  managed  to  "jump"  him  among 
rocks,  and  then  our  "  Jim "  did  some  rare  sprinting, 
with  his  respiration  bordering  upon  300.  He  is  of 
Falstaffian  dimensions.  His  sweater  was  cast  aside  in 
the  run  ;  next  his  coat,  followed  by  a  pair  of  trousers 
and  his  hat,  the  guide  encouraging  him  to  "  Come  on, 
come  on." 

There  were  logs  a-many;  some  were  slippery,  and 
over  these  the  trail  must  lead ;  and  need  it  be  wondered 
at  that  our  doughty  companion  often  fell !  He  once 
slipped  and  slid  feet  first  down  a  portion  of  the  steep 
mountainside.  The  guide  said  he  could  hear  the  bear 
crashing  through  the  bushes,  but,  alas !  he  couldn't  get 
close  enough  to  see  him.  He  was  always  twenty  min- 
utes behind  the  bear,  or,  to  put  it  more  plainly,  the 
bear  was  twenty  minutes  ahead  of  him. 

So  once  more  a  pair  of  weary  men  came  down  the 
hill  without  the  bear,  and  as  they  had  arrived  but  ten 
minutes  before  us,  "W.  J."  had  not  had  time  to  get 


316  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

rested.  This  was  his  last  clay's  hunt.  The  chase  was 
resumed,  however,  on  Friday  by  the  guide  and  a 
partner. 

At  first  they  met  with  some  prospects  of  success,  but 
a  snow-storm  started,  which  kept  getting  heavier  and 
heavier,  until  all  signs  of  the  trail  were  obliterated,  and 
the  hunt  was  called  off  for  good. 

Therefore,  it  is  fair  to  assume  that  that  particular 
bear  is  at  the  present  time  safety  housed  up  for  the 
winter,  and  that  he  will  sleep  until  spring,  and 
then  he'll  have  to  hustle  for  his  food  in  right  good 
earnest. 

The  packhorse  being  unloaded,  and  the  other  horses 
sent  to  their  stalls,  a  smiling  Chinaman's  hand  was 
crossed  with  a  dollar  bill  and  he  was  asked  to  get  us 
food.  We  wanted  something  that  would  not  "  clog  the 
hungry  edge  of  appetite  by  bare  imagination  of  a  feast," 
and  after  that  a  hot  bath  to  take  the  kinks  out  of  a  tired 
and  much-abused  spine.  In  due  time  the  Chinaman 
managed  to  set  before  each  of  us  a  tenderloin  steak, 
with  onions,  potatoes  and  tomatoes,  and  we  ate  and 
were  merry.  After  the  good  supper  and  the  hot  bath, 
our  sleep  was  sound  and  long. 

The  stage  was  advertised  to  start  at  two  o'clock  the 
following  afternoon,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  it 
shouldn't  have  done  so.  The  driver — a  stolid  English- 
man— moved  with  exasperating  slowness.  He  had  all 
of  the  forenoon  in  which  to  get  ready,  but  he  was  in  no 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  317 

hurry,  and  "  fiddled  "  around  taking  life  easy  until  five 
minutes  past  three,  and  then  we  were  off  with  four 
horses  hauling  us,  and  a  little  snow  falling. 

On  the  stage  was  a  woman,  a  native,  born  in  Barker- 
ville,  and  a  little  girl,  whom  she  was  going  to  take  out 
to  school  in  the  Kootenay  country ;  a  blacksmith  be- 
longing to  the  stage  company,  and  another  man.  We 
were  told  that  we  would  arrive  in  Stanley,  fourteen 
miles  away,  for  supper  at  six  o'clock,  if  we  started  on 
time.  Had  we  left  at  two,  we  probably  should  have 
done  so ;  but  the  snow  came  down  thicker  and  thicker 
as  we  climbed  mountain  after  mountain,  and  it  was  late 
when  we  reached  Stanley,  and  later  still  when  we  left 
there  for  Cottonwood,  where  we  were  to  spend  the 
night.  The  snow  now  turned  to  rain. 

We  should  have  been  in  front  of  the  big  stove  in  the 
Cottonwood  house  at  ten  o'clock,  but  it  was  after  one 
in  the  morning  when  the  bedraggled  woman  and  child 
and  the  rest  of  us  got  there.  The  finery  of  the  females 
was  all  drenching  wet ;  hats,  feathers  and  other  fixings 
were  apparently  ruined.  The  bunch  of  us  sat  around 
a  big  hot  stove  until  nearly  three  o'clock,  and  then  we 
were  off  to  bed  to  sleep  until  six. 

Saturday  morning  snow  and  slush  covered  the  ground 
and  it  still  rained.  The  road  now  became  very  muddy 
and  heavy,  and  the  best  the  horses  could  do  for  many 
miles  was  a  walk*  At  1  p.  M.  Quesnelle  on  the 
Frazer  River  was  reached.  Here  we  took  the  steamer 


318  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Charlotte  for  a  ride  down  this  mighty  river  to  Soda 
Creek.  We  just  had  time  to  run  in  and  shake  hands 
with  Mr.  Collins,  the  manager  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany at  Quesnelle,  when  the  whistle  blew  for  the 
steamer's  start,  and  off  we  went. 

The  passenger  list  of  the  Charlotte  contained  many 
Siwash  Indians,  some  Chinamen  going  back  to  China, 
timber  prospectors,  lumbermen  and  sportsmen.  The 
ride  down  the  stream  was  intensely  interesting  by 
reason  of  the  ever-changing  scenery,  the  rushing  water, 
and  occasional  small  flights  of  ducks. 

After  an  hour's  run  a  man  on  the  right-hand  bank 
signaled  to  us.  The  boat  was  turned  around  head  up- 
stream and  then  worked  to  the  shore,  where  it  turned 
out  that  the  man  carried  "  the  royal  mail,"  and  this 
having  been  taken  aboard  and  the  inward  bound  mail 
given  to  the  man,  we  again  proceeded  for  another  hour, 
when  the  boat  was  swung  around  again  to  take  on  fire- 
wood for  the  boiler. 

The  boat  was  to  stay  from  an  hour  to  an  hour  and  a 
quarter  in  loading  the  fire-wood.  Here,  then,  was  an 
opportunity  for  a  good  long  walk  on  the  bench  of  land 
between  the  great  river  and  the  mountains  at  the  back. 
I  was  not  long  in  getting  out  on  the  brown  earth,  and 
covered  two  or  three  miles  before  returning. 

On  climbing  down  the  bank  to  the  water's  edge,  I 
saw  some  very  peculiarly  colored  stones  in  the  water. 
I  picked  a  small  paper  bag  full  of  the  oddest  looking 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  319 

ones,  which  were  brought  to  Philadelphia  and  shown 
to  a  lapidary,  who  couldn't  even  classify  them.  I  had 
them  cut  up  and  made  into  stick  pins,  brooches  and 
rings,  and  they  made  very  novel  and  acceptable  Christ- 
mas presents. 

We  were  stopped  once  more  on  signal  from  a  woman 
who  was  waiting  on  the  bank.  She,  with  her  baggage, 
was  soon  aboard,  and  then  the  journey  was  completed 
without  interruption. 

Soda  Creek  is  a  little  village  nestling  close  to  the 
Frazer  Eiver,  with  one  so-called  hotel  and,  say,  a  half 
dozen  houses.  It  was  pitch  dark  when  we  arrived  at 
the  landing  and  the  road  very  muddy  from  the  excess- 
ive rains.  The  arrangement  for  the  luggage  owned 
by  the  passengers  was  that  it  should  stay  until  the 
stage  should  arrive  from  Ashcroft,  due  at  10:30  o'clock, 
when  the  stuff  for  the  up-river  trip  was  unloaded  from 
the  stage  to  the  steamer. 

Our  stuff  would  then  be  loaded  upon  the  same  stage, 
where  it  would  remain  out  in  the  open  until  noon  of 
the  next  day  exposed  to  the  rain  or  snow  all  of  that 
time. 

I  had  two  dunnage  bags  weighing  about  eighty 
pounds  each.  The  night  was  dark  and  it  was  pouring 
rain.  I  didn't  know  the  way,  and  the  so-called  hotel 
was  said  to  be  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  and  up  a  fairly 
steep  bank. 

I  asked  the  purser — an  Englishman — if  he  would  al- 


320  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

low  me  to  hire  one  of  the  steamer's  men  to  carry  up 
my  sacks  for  me.  He  replied,  No  ;  he  had  no  men  to 
spare.  I  shouldered  one  of  the  bags  weighing  eighty 
pounds,  and  walked  down  the  narrow  gangplank  be- 
hind the  Barkerville  woman  and  child. 

They  were  also  compelled  to  carry  their  baggage, 
while  the  consequential  purser  came  after  us  and 
walked  off  with  a  lantern  by  himself,  and  never  stopped 
either  to  help  the  women  down  the  narrow  plank  in 
the  dark  or  to  show  them  the  way  with  his  light. 
That  was  a  long  quarter  of  a  mile,  with  an  eighty- 
pound  sack  and  me  stumbling  along  the  road. 

A  gate  was  reached  which  led  to  a  way  through 
a  muddy  lot.  I  opened  it  and  went  down  in  mud  up 
to  the  ankles,  but  at  last  I  reached  that  apology  for  a 
hotel.  The  women  came  close  after  me.  There  were 
some  very  angry  comments  made  by  the  passengers 
upon  the  conduct  of  the  surly  English  purser. 

The  next  morning  (Sunday)  the  weather  was  warm 
and  muggy,  and  it  looked  like  more  rain.  The  stage 
had  been  woefully  late,  not  having  gotten  in  until  five 
in  the  morning.  Hearing  that  a  man  by  the  name  of 
"  Billy  "  Lyons  kept  a  good  house  eight  miles  away  on 
our  route,  and  as  the  stage  would  be  heavily  loaded — 
there  were  seventeen  passengers  to  go — I  paid  my  bill, 
and,  getting  "  W.  J."  to  look  after  my  luggage,  started 
to  walk  to  the  abode  of  "  Billy  "  Lyons.  One  of  the 
men  said  as  I  started : 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  321 

"  Mister,  the  mile  posts  will  say  eight  miles,  all  right 
enough,  but  the  road  winds  around  from  the  river's 
elevation  of  1,200  feet  to  4,500  feet,  and  before  you 
will  get  to  <  Billy's '  you'll  say  it's  a  good  twenty  miles 
when  your  walk  is  finished." 

Not  far  from  the  hotel  a  Chinaman  was  feeding  his 
chickens,  and  I  accosted  him :  "  John,  is  it  going  to 
rain?" 

"Ya  ya,  him  soon  rain  belly  hard!"  I  thought 
John  was  right,  but  still  went  on. 

When  the  first  bench  of  the  mountains  was  climbed 
it  was  necessary  to  remove  all  of  my  superfluous  cloth- 
ing and  tie  it  in  a  bundle,  as  I  was  perspiring  freely. 
An  Indian  village  with  a  small  white  Catholic  church 
in  its  midst  lured  me  off  to  the  right  of  the  road  to  in- 
spect it.  A  young  Indian  was  carrying  a  set  of  har- 
ness through  the  only  street  of  the  village.  Did  he 
think  it  would  rain  ? 

He  looked  up  and  surveyed  the  sky  and  then  said : 
"  He  make  heap  dam  fuss — he  no  rain."  Here  was  the 
opinion  of  the  aboriginal  American  against  that  of  the 
Oriental;  which  would  be  right?  The  Indian  was 
right ;  there  was  a  "  heap  fuss,"  but  no  rain. 

At  "  Billy  "  Lyons'  I  found  three  other  men  who  had 
walked,  rather  than  take  another  meal  at  the  Soda 
Creek  Hotel.  We  found  the  proprietor  and  his  wife  to 
be  half-breeds  (the  wife  having  been  educated  in  a  con- 
vent school).  We  had  a  good  dinner  and  a  good  long 


322  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

rest  before  the  stage  arrived.  We  spent  the  night  at 
"  One-hundred-and-fifty-mile  House,"  and  left  very 
early  Monday  morning. 

It  was  a  singularly  fortunate  thing  that  we  came  out 
when  we  did,  as  the  next  stage  which  followed  us  was 
held  up  by  three  masked  men  armed  with  rifles,  and 
they  cleaned  up  out  of  the  lot  between  $4,000  and 
$5,000.  The  place  selected  for  the  hold-up  was  behind 
a  sharp  curve  in  the  road  ;  the  time  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  the  light  was  anything  but  good. 

Neither  the  driver  nor  the  passengers  had  any 
chance  to  make  the  slightest  resistance.  The  bandits 
took  the  situation  leisurely,  showed  no  hurry  or  excite- 
ment, but  got  what  they  were  after  and  then  disap- 
peared in  the  woods.  I  have  not  heard  anything  of 
their  capture. 

At  the  next  stop  for  a  change  of  horses  we  learned 
that  the  hostler,  an  old  man,  had  dropped  dead  an  hour 
before  our  arrival  from  heart  failure.  The  man  who 
took  his  place  brought  out  the  horses  and  put  the  lead- 
ers at  the  wheel  and  the  wheel  horses  in  the  lead,  and 
they  wouldn't  go,  but  pranced  around  until  they  broke 
the  tongue.  A  passenger  by  the  name  of  N.  S.  Glark, 
manager  of  the  Fort  George  Lumber  and  Navigation 
Company,  was  on  the  stage.  Mr.  Clark  is  a  man  of 
brawn  and  initiative. 

He  launched  a  steamer  last  summer  on  the  Frazer 
River  under  a  capable  captain,  who  navigated  two  hun- 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  323 

dred  and  fifty  miles  of  the  river  which  previously  had 
always  been  considered  impassable.  In  addition  to 
this,  he  is  building  another  steamer,  and  next  spring 
will  endeavor  to  force  her  through  the  canyons  on  the 
lower  part  of  the  river,  between  Lillooet  and  the  Pete 
Jaune  cache,  and  if  this  experiment  is  successful  he  will 
receive  much  praise,  many  thanks  and  lots  of  money  in 
the  shape  of  fares  from  a  grateful  public. 

"  Nick "  Clark  saw  that  the  broken  tongue  of  the 
stage  was  liable  to  cause  a  day's  delay  to  himself,  and 
the  rest  of  us,  so  he  volunteered  to  repair  the  damage, 
as  there  were  at  hand  a  forge,  an  anvil  and  some  iron 
plates  and  bolts.  The  work  would  take  a  couple  of 
hours,  so  I  started  ahead  for  another  long  walk.  Some 
seven  or  eight  miles  away  I  sat  down  to  wait  on  the 
side  of  a  hill  for  the  stage,  when  three  Chinamen  came 
along  and  sat  down  beside  me.  The  younger  of 
the  three  had  a  bottle  of  whiskey  with  which  he  made 
quite  free,  inviting  me  to  take  some.  Declining  his  of- 
fer with  thanks,  I  asked  where  they  were  going.  He 
said : 

"  Me  takie  two  Chinamen  coast — they  go  home  to 
China — they  send  my  boy  back  here." 

"  How  old  is  your  boy  ?  " 

"  Him  thirteen." 

"  Why  are  these  men  going  home  ?  " 

"They  too  old  to  stay;  that  man  he  sixty-seven; 
other  man  fifty-five." 


324  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

"  Oh,  I  see ;  they  are  going  home  now,  so  as  to 
carry  their  bones  home  with  them  and  thus  save  the 
freight." 

He  laughed  very  heartily  at  this,  and  told  the  others 
what  I  had  said  and  they  in  turn  laughed  loud  and 
long. 

The  talkative  young  Chinaman  said  that  the  body  of 
a  Chinese  who  dies  in  this  country  must  lie  buried 
seven  years ;  then  the  bones  are  disinterred  and  wrapped 
up  carefully,  tagged  and  shipped  back  to  China  for 
burial.  The  whole  operation  costs  from  $25  to  $35. 
The  same  Chinaman  informed  me  that  it  now  costs 
$500  to  get  a  Chinaman  of  the  coolie  class  into  British 
Columbia,  and  they,  therefore,  take  no  chances  in 
going  out  of  the  country  until  they  are  ready  to 
go  back  to  China  to  die  and  be  buried  with  their 
ancestors. 

This  old  Cariboo  trail  has  seen  many  migrations 
of  Indians,  half-breeds,  hunters,  trappers,  clergymen, 
lumbermen,  agriculturists,  miners,  prospectors,  home- 
seekers,  business  men,  cattlemen,  drummers,  school- 
teachers, and  others  going  "  in  "  perhaps  full  of  hope 
and  expectation,  seeing  new  sights  and  new  lands,  new 
methods  and  new  interests. 

On  the  outward  trip  the  same  classes  of  people  pre- 
sent a  very  different  aspect  as  they  journey  toward  the 
steel  rails  which  will  take  them  to  the  busy  world 
again.  The  incentive  of  adventure  being  lacking  on 


AN  EXCITING  TRIP  325 

their  return,  they  are  not  so  demonstrative  and  not  so 
eager  to  ask  questions. 

They  have  seen  and  explored  the  unknown,  and  their 
curiosity,  at  any  rate,  is  satisfied,  and  they  have  be- 
come wiser  and  richer  by  experience. 


CHAPTEE  XXIX 
THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP 

AT  "  One-hundred-and-thirteen-mile  House "  we 
came  to  one  of  the  loveliest  of  lakes.  It  is  about 
fifteen  miles  long,  but  not  very  wide.  The  water  is  of 
exquisite  clearness ;  indeed,  so  clear  is  it  that  the  pas- 
time of  skating  for  fish  when  the  first  clear  ice  forms  in 
the  early  fall  is  indulged  in  by  lads,  lasses  and  mature 
men  and  women. 

This  lake  is  celebrated  as  being  the  home  of  a  species 
of  trout  or  char,  some  of  which  grow  to  a  very  large 
size  and  are  of  delicious  flavor.  The  first  ice  is  so  clear 
that  the  fish  can  readily  be  seen  through  it,  and  then 
the  skaters  assemble  in  large  numbers  and  follow  them 
in  their  quick  movements  in  the  endeavor  to  drive  them 
close  to  shore,  where  the  water  is  shallow  enough  to 
hedge  them  in  under  the  ice  ;  they  are  then  dispatched 
by  breaking  the  ice  and  spearing  them. 

The  sport  is  said  to  be  very  exciting,  and  catches  are 
often  made  by  the  skaters  in  large  enough  quantity  to 
salt  away  for  the  winter's  use. 

Tradition  says  that  a  Frenchman  was  chopping 
through  the  heavy  ice  in  late  winter  with  an  axe,  and 
that  when  a  hole  in  the  ice  was  finally  cut  through,  the 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP  327 

axe  slipped  to  the  bottom,  and  was  lost,  hence  the 
name  Lac  La  Hache — "  Lake  of  the  Axe." 

At  "  Eighty -three-mile  House  "  we  arrived  very  late, 
and  found  a  goodly  number  of  passengers,  who  had 
come  earlier  in  the  evening  by  the  stage  going  north. 
The  rooms  in  this  house  are  not  at  all  large,  and  the 
crowd  necessitated  a  general  "  doubling  up  "  of  the 
travelers  for  the  night.  Our  stage  was  to  leave  at 
seven  in  the  morning,  and  the  other  one  at  four,  so 
some  confusion  naturally  took  place  when  the  north- 
bound people  were  aroused,  breakfasted  and  started  off 
on  their  long  ride. 

The  distribution  of  the  mails  along  this  famous 
Cariboo  wagon  road  is  quite  interesting.  The  route 
lies  through  a  large  stretch  of  country  where  the 
ground  has  to  be  irrigated,  as  the  rainfall  is  quite 
meagre.  In  this  section  many  cattle  are  grazed,  vege- 
tables cultivated  and  a  good  deal  of  hay  is  grown. 

We  noticed  in  addition  to  the  letters,  newspapers 
and  mail  order  merchandise  carried  in  the  mails,  that 
trade  papers  and  magazines  relative  to  farming  and 
stock  raising  were  distributed  in  abundance — the  Farm 
Journal,  published  in  Philadelphia,  being  most  fre- 
quently seen. 

I  asked  a  man  in  Barkerville  why  they  used  so  many 
magazines  and  newspapers  up  there.  He  said  because 
the  nights  were  long  and  bitterly  cold,  and  it  was  obvi- 
ous that  much  reading  would  be  indulged  in ;  and,  in 


328  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

consequence,  stories  of  adventure  and  the  news  of  the 
day  were  all  eagerly  devoured. 

After  leaving  u  Eighty -three-mile  House  "  early  in 
the  morning,  we  saw  a  white  man  just  arising  from  the 
ground  a  short  distance  from  the  road,  where  he  had 
spent  the  night.  He  had  no  tent  over  him  or  blanket 
under  him,  but  he  had  gathered  a  few  branches  in  lieu 
of  a  mattress,  built  a  little  fire,  which  was  yet  smoulder- 
ing as  we  passed,  and  with  his  rifle  lying  by  his  side  he 
had  thus  passed  the  night. 

Further  on  we  saw  many  groups  of  Siwash  Indians 
— bucks,  squaws  and  papooses — some  seated  around 
camp-tires  eating  their  morning  meal,  and  some  appar- 
ently sound  asleep.  Their  cayuse  ponies  were  tethered 
close  by  the  camp-fires,  while  the  dogs  were  huddled 
together  near  their  masters.  All  of  these  many  groups 
of  Indians  were  migrating  south  for  the  winter. 

Now  and  then  we  would  notice  a  Chinaman,  or  per- 
haps a  pair  of  them,  bunking  with  the  red  men,  or 
traveling  with  them  in  their  wagons.  The  Chinamen 
seem  to  get  along  very  well  with  the  aboriginals,  and 
the  mingling  of  the  races  excites  no  comment. 

We  came  to  an  Indian  reservation,  where  the  occu- 
pants were  all  dressed  in  gala  attire.  Their  horses 
were  hitched  to  fences  and  trees,  and  the  men,  the 
squaws  and  the  children  were  laughing  and  apparently 
in  rare  good  humor.  Upon  inquiry  we  were  informed 
that  the  day  was  a  holiday ;  that  the  priest  was  to  be 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP  329 

there,  and  was  even  then  expected  to  arrive  at.  any 
minute. 

After  the  mass,  the  sermon  and  the  private  instruc- 
tions of  the  priest,  there  were  to  be  horse-races  and 
other  amusements  that  the  Indians  delight  in  upon 
holiday  occasions. 

The  Jesuits  undoubtedly  have  been  strong  factors  in 
helping  to  civilize  the  Indians  of  the  Northwest,  and 
are  now  doing  much  to  lead  them  to  higher  and  better 
living. 

In  former  times  the  priests  suffered  great  privation 
from  hunger,  cold,  and  fatigue;  but  they  persevered 
and  worked  cheerfully  and  without  grumbling  over 
their  hard  lot.  Finally  they  won  the  confidence  of  the 
natives,  their  admonitions  were  listened  to,  and  grad- 
ually, though  very  slowly,  they  instilled  into  the  peo- 
ple some  of  the  brighter  things  to  be  found  in 
civilized  life,  while  steering  them  away  from  many  of 
its  evils. 

At  Clinton,  thirty-four  miles  from  Ashcroft,  we  had 
dinner.  Here  the  Chinamen  have  stores  and  also  act 
as  contractors  in  cutting  down  timber  for  fire-wood. 
From  this  place  to  Ashcroft  the  country  has  very  much 
the  appearance  of  a  great  portion  of  Arizona.  It  is  a 
section  where  irrigation  must  be  resorted  to  if  vegeta- 
tion is  to  flourish  at  all. 

We  were  shown  an  irrigation  ditch  of  several  miles 
in  length  that  had  been  surveyed  and  staked  out  by  an 


330          WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

engineer  of  repute  and  built  at  an  enormous  cost.  When 
the  work  was  finished,  it  was  found  that  the  water 
wouldn't  run  in  it  at  all,  because  it  was  mostly  up-hill. 
The  engineer  had  blundered,  but  his  blunder  ruined  his 
patron,  as  he  lost  by  it  every  dollar  he  had  in  the 
world. 

At  "  Twelve-mile  House "  we  saw  an  example  of 
what  irrigation  can  do  in  the  lusty  growth  of  grasses, 
flowers,  oats,  hay  and  fruits.  Outside  of  the  irrigated 
tract  everything  was  dried  up  and  parched. 

In  the  bottom  lands  along  the  Bonaparte  River  pota- 
toes of  fine  quality  are  grown  in  abundance,  making 
Ashcroft  the  shipping  point  every  fall  for  hundreds  of 
carloads  of  the  tubers. 

We  finally  pulled  into  Ashcroft,  crossed  the  bridge  over 
the  north  branch  of  the  Thompson  River  and  rattled  up 
to  the  office  of  the  British  Columbia  Express  Company 
upon  schedule  time — at  precisely  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  Our  train  was  to  leave  at  ten,  and  through 
the  courtesy  of  J.  D.  Moore,  the  agent  of  the  express 
company,  we  were  permitted,  after  supper,  to  return  to 
the  company's  office  (where  our  trunks  had  been  left 
upon  our  arrival  there  on  August  29th)  to  change  our 
clothes  and  repack  our  trunks  for  shipment  to  the  East. 
This  necessary  work  took  considerable  time. 

The  night  was  hot  and  close,  and  the  door  was  fre- 
quently opened  by  persons  inquiring  for  packages, 
trunks,  satchels,  etc.  Among  the  number  were  several 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP  331 

women,  so  we  did  considerable  dodging  behind 
trunks  while  the  process  of  undressing  and  dressing 
went  on. 

We  had  to  pack  our  trophies,  portions  of  logs  cut 
down  by  beavers,  many  high-colored  stones  picked  up 
on  the  banks  of  the  Frazer  Eiver,  jars  of  blueberries 
that  one  of  our  "  Falstaifs  "  was  taking  home  to  show 
what  real  blueberries  were  like,  the  hide,  antlers  and 
scalp  of  a  caribou ;  two  bear  hides  and  the  dried  skins 
of  trout  for  mounting. 

When  this  work  was  all  finished,  we  found  it  would 
be  necessary  to  see  the  customs  officer  to  bond  our  stuff 
through,  for  if  we  failed  to  do  so,  it  might  be  delayed. 
With  three  green  hides  in  one  trunk,  an  unusual  delay 
might  ruin  them. 

We  found  the  customs  officer,  and  although  he  was  on 
his  way  to  an  entertainment  in  company  with  his  wife, 
he  cheerfully  came  to  our  rescue,  and  saw  that  the 
magical  leaden  seals  were  affixed  to  our  trunks. 

The  hotel  men  at  the  Ashcroft  Hotel  were  equally 
courteous,  for  although  we  only  took  supper  there,  they 
placed  two  of  their  best  rooms  on  the  ground  floor  at 
our  disposal,  saying  that  the  train  might  be  late,  and 
we  ought  to  lie  down  and  take  a  rest.  The  train  was 
late  and  we  fully  appreciated  their  kindness,  but  they 
refused  to  take  any  pay  for  the  use  of  their  rooms.  At 
a  few  minutes  of  midnight,  the  headlight  of  the  locomo- 
tive that  was  to  start  us  upon  our  long  journey  to  the 


332  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

East  loomed  up,  and  we  were  once  more  on  the  steel 
rails  and  bound  for  home. 

It  may  be  well  just  here  to  sum  up  the  results  of  this 
journey  of  close  to  10,000  miles  in  the  always  exciting 
search  after  big  game. 

Early  in  August  our  monitor  advised  us  by  wire  to 
be  at  Barkerville  on  September  first,  and  we  were  there 
on  the  second.  In  the  light  of  our  present  experience 
we  were  at  least  one  month  too  early,  and  were  we  to 
repeat  the  trip,  we  would  expect  to  start  in  hunting  on 
the  first  of  October.  By  that  time  the  frost,  snow  and 
sleet,  the  rains  and  high  winds  would  have  denuded 
the  willow  brush  of  its  wealth  of  leaves.  The  blueberry 
season  would  be  over,  and  the  spawning  salmon  would 
all  be  dead. 

The  grizzly  bears,  then  having  neither  berries  nor 
salmon  to  feed  upon,  would  be  traveling  around  con- 
siderably before  u  holing  up,"  and  the  willow  brush, 
naked  of  leafage,  would  not  act  as  a  screen  for  them ; 
they  could  be  seen  and  followed  with  a  reasonable 
chance  of  killing  one  or  more  of  them. 

The  amount  of  game  which  fell  to  our  rifles  Avas 
woefully  out  of  tune  with  our  expectations,  but  the 
wealth  of  experience  gained  was  of  such  a  varied  char- 
acter, that  we  consider  the  trip  one  of  the  most  satis- 
factory among  many  which  are  now  happy  memories 
of  the  past. 

The  district  of  Cariboo,  in  which  we  hunted,  is  one 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP  333 

of  the  largest  districts  of  British  Columbia.  It  is  of 
greater  extent  than  the  state  of  Pennsylvania,  and  yet 
it  polls  less  than  500  votes.  This  will  serve  to  show 
the  sparseness  of  human  life  in  this  vast  tract  of  mostly 
undeveloped  land. 

Cassiar  district,  still  further  to  the  northwest  and 
adjoining  the  territory  of  Alaska,  is  another  region  of 
magnificent  distances  which  the  new  Grand  Trunk 
Pacific  Eailroad  will  help  to  develop.  Great  fortunes 
loom  up  as  the  reward  for  pioneers  when  this  railway 
is  finally  in  operation. 

There  are  billions  of  feet  of  logs  to  be  cut  where 
never  a  tree  has  yet  been  felled  for  shipment,  and  mil- 
lions of  tons  of  coal  that  now  lie  undisturbed  in  the 
bowels  of  the  earth.  Enormous  deposits  of  iron  ore,  of 
copper  ore  and  of  gold  will  be  opened  up  through  the 
magic  influence  of  the  steel  rails  which  will  connect 
the  forests  and  waters  of  New  Brunswick  and  Nova 
Scotia  with  those  of  the  Frazer,  the  Peace,  the  Skeena, 
the  Parsnip,  the  Blackwater,  the  Stickine,  and  the 
Thompson  Kivers. 

The  term  "  Northwest "  gives  but  little  idea  of  what 
a  vast  stretch  of  country,  mostly  unsurveyed,  it  repre- 
sents. In  the  official  Bulletin  No.  22,  just  issued  by 
the  government  of  New  British  Columbia,  the  report 
of  a  single  one  of  its  many  expeditions  sent  out  every 
year  to  explore  and  write  up  the  resources,  characteris- 
tics and  possibilities  of  development  of  this  far-off 


334  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

Golconda  may  serve  to  throw  a  little  light  upon  this 
most  interesting  part  of  the  northern  hemisphere. 

The  exploring  party  was  made  up  of  but  three  men 
for  part  of  the  time,  and  later  there  were  only  two 
men  engaged  in  the  work.  The  route  taken  was  from 
Victoria  and  Vancouver  to  Essington,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Skeena  River,  a  journey  of  six  hundred  and  forty- 
five  miles ;  up  the  Skeena  by  steamer  to  Hazleton,  one 
hundred  and  eighty  miles ;  by  pack  train  to  Babine, 
seventy  miles ;  up  Babine  Lake  by  canoe,  with  a  port- 
age of  twelve  miles  to  Stuart  Lake,  and  thence  to  Fort 
St.  James,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 

From  Fort  St.  James,  they  went  by  packhorse  to 
McLeod  Lake,  eighty-five  miles.  McLeod  Lake  being 
on  the  head  waters  of  the  Peace  River,  canoes  were 
used  to  the  head  of  the  Peace  River  canyon,  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty-two  miles.  Then  a  portage  around 
the  canyon  of  fourteen  miles  compelled  the  party  to 
abandon  its  canoes  and  "  pack  "  all  of  its  supplies  and 
camp  outfit  on  their  backs  to  Hudson  Hope. 

From  there  to  Fort  St.  John,  on  the  Peace  River,  was 
a  trip  of  sixty  miles.  They  expected  to  make  the 
journey  on  a  raft,  but,  fortunately,  they  met  an  Indian 
with  some  horses,  and  they  made  a  detour  with  him  to 
Moberly  Lake,  in  the  Pine  River  district,  making  in  all 
an  overland  trip  of  ninety  miles. 

Next  a  trip  to  Ponce  Coupe  prairie  and  return  by 
packhorses,  one  hundred  and  eighty-five  miles.  At 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP  335 

Fort  St.  John  a  bateau  was  obtained  from  the  Hudson 
Bay  Company,  and  in  this  they  went  down  the  river  to 
the  junction  of  the  Smoky  Eiver  with  the  Peace  Kiver, 
one  hundred  and  eighty  miles.  Then  by  freight  wagon 
to  the  upper  end  of  Lesser  Slave  Lake,  one  hundred 
miles;  then  down  Lesser  Slave  Lake  and  river  and 
Athabasca  Kiver  to  Athabasca  landing,  in  a  canoe,  two 
hundred  miles  ;  and,  lastly,  by  wagon  road  to  Edmon- 
ton, one  hundred  miles,  making  a  total  journey  of  ap- 
proximately 3,120  miles. 

The  report  says :  "  The  range  has  only  begun  to  be 
prospected,  and  its  potentialities  are  as  yet  undemon- 
strated. 

"  In  this  far  North  country  wild  hay  and  other  wild 
grasses  were  growing  prolifically,  and  presumably  rye, 
oats,  barley  and  wheat  would  likewise  grow  in  abun- 
dance. All  garden  vegetables  and  root  crops  are  suc- 
cessfully grown,  while  raspberries,  currants,  strawber- 
ries and  gooseberries  grow  in  wanton  profusion." 

A  botanist  who  accompanied  a  previous  geological 
survey  writes : 

"  Clumps  of  willows  and  poplars  of  various  ages 
were  interspersed  with  the  most  astonishing  growth  of 
herbaceous  plants  I  ever  witnessed.  ...  It  would 
be  folly  to  attempt  to  depict  the  appearance  of  the 
country,  as  it  was  so  much  beyond  what  I  ever  saw 
that  I  hardly  dare  make  use  of  truthful  words  to  por- 
tray it." 


336  WITH  GUN  AND  GUIDE 

All  that  has  been  needed  in  the  past  to  open  up  to 
cultivation  and  civilization  this  great  northern  empire 
was  transportation.  And  now  that  the  new  railroad  is 
to  be  in  operation  all  the  way  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific  by  1912,  there  is  no  living  man  who  can  ac- 
curately predict  the  possibilities  and  the  future  of  this 
great  country. 

I  rejoice  that  I  have  been  able  to  see  even  a  small 
portion  of  it ;  to  mingle  with  its  pioneers ;  to  tramp 
over  an  unsurveyed  territory ;  to  see  nature  in  perhaps 
her  roughest  moods ;  to  breathe  the  wonderfully 
stimulating  air ;  to  endure  hardships  successfully,  in 
company  with  the  trapper,  the  woodsman,  the  pros- 
pector, the  explorer;  to  have  crossed  dizzy  mountain 
heights  on  the  back  of  the  safe  old  packhorse ;  to  have 
"  packed  "  my  share  of  the  loads  over  portages  and  effi- 
ciently used  the  bow  paddle  of  the  boat  from  first  to 
last  of  the  whole  trip :  that  in  the  time  thus  employed  I 
was  always  in  prime  health,  no  matter  how  great  the 
exposure  to  the  weather,  or  how  meagre  the  food  sup- 
ply :  and,  lastly,  that  I  returned  safely,  freshened  of 
mind,  strengthened  of  body,  and  with  an  experience 
that  will  never  be  forgotten. 

And  now  my  tale  is  told.  The  curtain  is  rung  down, 
but  before  the  audience  is  dismissed,  a  last  word  might 
well  be  said. 

For  you,  readers,  who  have  followed  my  story  from 
that  superheated  day.  the  24th  of  August,  when  we  bade 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRIP  337 

farewell  to  the  bunch  of  friends  gathered  at  the  rail- 
road station,  to  this  last  writing,  I  truly  hope  that 
something  that  has  been  written  will  induce  you  to  try 
the  experience  of  living  for  a  time  at  least  in  the  open 
air. 

Select  some  section  of  the  land  where  you  will  have 
to  bestir  yourselves — to  endure  some  hardships,  some 
privations,  some  exposure  to  the  elements ;  where  a  din- 
ner upon  boiled  rice  with  an  accompaniment  of  ripe 
blueberries  will  taste  better  than  the  most  sumptuous 
banquet  to  which  you  ever  sat  down;  where  you 
will  have  to  scale  snow-clad  mountains  and  tramp 
through  the  snow,  making  your  lungs  work  as  never 
before ;  where  you  will  oftentimes  be  so  weary  as  to 
drop  to  the  ground  for  rest,  and  presto — you're  asleep, 
only  to  be  awakened,  renewed  in  muscular  strength, 
more  resolute  of  purpose  and  with  a  clearer  intellect. 
You  will  rejoice,  when  at  last  you  return  to  your  own 
fireside,  that  for  once,  at  least,  you  have  lived  a  new 
life— that  you  have  learned  to  know  what  the  "  great 
white  silence  "  means  and  that  you  have  commenced  to 
know  yourself.  In  all  of  this  writing  I  have  been  en- 
deavoring to  help  you. 

"  God  knows  I  have  tried  to  be  true  ; 
Please  God,  you  will  understand. " 


VC   12077 


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